
m 

V 

RETOLD FROM 
ST. NICHOLAS 







X-. 

^ ’O. If a , \ ° 

A* 1 * 1 / +'•*'.’% v'\» 

<> S « z <** <V z 

S Af . o 



j5 y-. 

*»£ Zi’A N < * . . , >/♦ • « • ’ 




•V. < w; * ^ ‘,Wv* ,*' 

.>•*. <y° * * v\ « « « « ’V' * * ' V '* 

•7 A* A * ' o G ' 

* A, ,-^ *■« "'• • ''■'% G o ^ 

* * V- V ° « O 0 




< * . Sc. "" * 4 " n ° '/°\ >•»-' 




■<? % 
aV </> z 

<y -y> • 



A y 


G% yyyy 4 


0 * <*■ /<( -/ 0 


<6 


* * ' - V I « ^ 


« o v 



,-cr 


0 a 


<■ A, 

^ A 


c>G .G-p. 

V? >«■ 


„ % A X c 0 N G -0 ^ 

A V s ? u \ k* * 

c v 0O > ^ ® 4 

* * + < Sr y 

% '* oTo ^ C 0 

> *t G> rt7 v * 0 f ' r% 

s A ' «. a <5» * 

.A ■'X ' Ozi r ' V \. 

<£, A' * rC<\s| /A 5 A* ^ 

G> V - RWA r <* y z 

<y o 



V I 8 




o5 y* 



o H 




•\ 



g Gy a 

vr* V 



+ V 






* -> - 0 




A 


■y a 


y ' G(? 5, ’ ? - ^ 


-r 





'= yy 
y . - ? 

y y 

f? y- j 


« <v 

■a 

o » y A 

c v <*" B * S> A V c 0 N c 

^ A - - y v 6 - : 

Oc- Ar. , %'.; yy •» _ rf- 

> O ■ y ' ' G .s C\. I- 

g .-*^y *" so '^ 

,V ^ /' «Wr. \ 

<<r* S 








: y v ^ "- 

^ ’'V y>, 



k /x / c ~> • kV.> 

. kj r '/> ^ * 6 s N i l 

r 0 N C A> O 0 v v^ 1 


<r 


\ 




0 A\\ ' t 0 N C , . 0 


o * s K _y . \ i 



C' 


? y 


,/V\ 


^ y ". 

a ^ 

(/ y 

CA «<. ° 

y -y 

y * 


gr ^ V 
« 0 N 

* o5 ^ - 

y y ^ ,* 0 »' 



SS^ 


i O \ U y 



-O' N 




%f. y 


* 9 1 a * y 
\. ^ 


l, « o 



cy ^ ^ * o , y 


■'o*. ' ♦ . n * ' y 



rL- / 

^ * 0 • 


■ y -v 



v ,y 


'A' ',A. 

/ n _ . ^ <\ O, ^ 

a 1 » * ^ c° N c y^o.. 

^ Ap y N k yy. ^ y 

^ V' V ° t * °o N 







y iii. ^ v 

r\v <* ' Af ^ v, 

< *> r y 


y 



^ o 


>y y\ 

•^/ y 


^ c 






... • • ’S> * ^ v * 

r ‘ <* .V; *■ <. >*- /a 

•* **% ifcS- 


0 





'A i 

0 

J o 

i v 

<1 v 

1 ® M Pp 

\ 

^ v . ; , } 

^u, 1 'P 

^ vt. i ', ■: 

'40? * ^p. 

.y» -< > 


a A 


v^N , o N c 


> ® \ v 


: %4 

Oo. ., ^ 


O ^ / ~ t s ' ,(3 

* ^b. * * 


^ A 


o 0 

-T ^ ' 

_N NT ' 


* % 'SJ -4 

,v ,v..> -^ y °^V 

,-0 X ^ ^ A 

16 VT. A' 

:, - +i. V 6 


* 0o „, 



O' , # u , 1 ° ,\' 

> *», ^ v> 


■ <* V V ' 

•V .£> $ 

^ X 

* v * A .. _ ^ *4 


V V . A' r ' - - * 




* \ <£* * 
- -m ; A a -. 
| A rll ., V"'* 1 - ^ ^ 

o v . * * ^ 4 




A V \°-‘«,-*b. ,0 

0“ S ,wr7&2.\ % A '’AV' ° 

^ > : flSpip, •; "b o N 

^ i \A o , 


* vWU -% 

+. '.^A* r.0 c^ v A~' ^ 

J A* 0 / c* V v'^ 

,~k V J? 5* . A Or t 


'\. '*«.'* SJ^J "V " ' " ° I/" * \ ->C, *'”" A ' ' ” ' 

<? 

/ ' -V ' 7 

//y.h 2! * ^ 

^ O c0 y <p- ° I JP ^ L » 

, s' X^' < ' « ♦ 1 * A v 0 M c t \ ' 1 * * ' 0 ^' . ' 1 • * '~*4 A 

o' 

^ ^UWSSS=* ■>» a ^ ^ a. ' * p.0 C; 

^ a0- C 0 > ♦ « M ' <0 C 

^ 3 H u \ * 0 y. 

_ /£' r \§J> % *o *<r' y\> * 

^ c5> ' P o ^ <v 



\- S” ‘ // ^ . V ^ ^ „ o> V 

/ p®‘ V: % :fd£ \ % ■ 

:V 'V-y-'K''.’ .'^ “ l\> lO J . L 


^ % 




* a /% 




^ V 


v>^ » aV <f> n 

W * - X xX Pi 



pb V 


^0*' 

a* s *%#*:' 


' > A .‘ nr b >v n* ’ ° ‘ ./V n 



£% \, j* : 

y/. VL -/ ^ V 




\ t \ * * i 

v s s "/ 


«o“ \^ 




V s 9 9 i 

V " ,, "•' 


1,1 ' 

-rrv\' 

,\V cT> ri 

^ f '^ * , 

'' 4>' V l., <■<."'•“■* / t .HC,\ 
,0 V* ,# V °o 

. ^ a\ *» - v ' ' W ^ 

v t x nt, - Ta- <s 


-y. 



^ >" : 
o ,0 O,, 



























































































































































































’ 






























*• 






















































































































































- 



















































































OUR HOLIDAYS 


HISTORICAL STORIES 

RETOLD FROM 

ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE 

IN FIVE VOLUMES 

¥ 

INDIAN STORIES 

A mirror of Indian ideas, customs, and 
adventures. 

COLONIAL STORIES 

Stirring tales of the rude frontier life of 
early times. 

REVOLUTIONARY STORIES 

Heroic deeds, and especially children's 
part in them. 

CIVIL WAR STORIES 

Thrilling stories of the great struggle, 
both on land and sea. 

OUR HOLIDAYS 

Something of their meaning and spirit. 


Each about 200 pages. Full cloth, 12mo. 
Price, 65 cents NET 

THE CENTURY CO. 


































































HO, 


FOR THE CHRISTMAS TREE! 




OUR HOLIDAYS 

* THEIR MEANING AND SPIRIT * 

RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS 

> \ 



PUBLISHED BY THE CENTURY CO. 
NEW YORK MCMV 


the library OF ' 

CONGRESS. 

Two Copses Received 

OCT 20 1905 | 

(pZrsiWo*-, 

OtASS a Wte KS! \ 

I £3? 

A. 



Copyright, 1876, 1877, 1879, 1881, by 
Scribner & Co. 



Copyright, 1881, 1882, 1883, 1885, 1887, 1892, 1893, 1894, 
1895, 1897, 1902, 1903, 1904, 1905, by 
The Century Co. 


THE DE VINNE PRESS 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Our Holidays i 

St. Saturday 3 

Hallowe'en 7 

All-hallow-eve Myths 9 

Election Day 13 

Rights and Duties of Citizens 15 

Thanksgiving Day 21 

A Thanksgiving Dinner that Flew Away . 23 

Whittier’s Birthday 35 

The Boyhood of John Greenleaf Whittier . 37 

Christmas 51 

How Uncle Sam Observes Christmas ... 53 

New Year’s Day 79 

Extract from “ Social Life in the Colonies ” 81 

A Chinese New Year’s in California ... 82 

Lincoln’s Birthday 85 

Abraham Lincoln 87 

The Gettysburg Address 99 

O Captain ! My Captain ! 101 

St. Valentine’s Birthday 103 

Who Began It? 105 


v 


VI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Washington’s Birthday . . hi 

The Boyhood of Washington 113 

Longfellow’s Birthday 123 

Longfellow and the Children 125 

Inauguration Day 139 

How a President is Inaugurated 141 

Easter Day 153 

A Song of Easter 155 

The General’s Easter Box 159 

Arbor Day 175 

The Planting of the Apple-tree 177 

April Fools’ Day 181 

Fourth-month Dunce 183 

Memorial Day 185 

The Boy in Gray 187 

Flag Day 193 

The Stars and Stripes 195 

Fourth of July 199 

A Story of the Flag 201 


PREFACE 


To most young people, holidays mean simply 
freedom from lessons and a good time. All this 
they should mean— and something more. 

It is well to remember, for example, that we 
owe the pleasure of Thanksgiving to those grate- 
ful Pilgrims who gave a feast of thanks for the 
long-delayed rain that saved their withering crops 
— a feast of wild turkeys and pumpkin pies, which 
has been celebrated now for nearly three cen- 
turies. 

It is most fitting that the same honor paid to 
Washington’s Birthday is now given to that of 
Lincoln, who is as closely associated with the 
Civil War as our first President is with the 
Revolution. 

Although the birthdays of the three American 
poets, Whittier, Lowell, and Longfellow, are 
not holidays, stories relating to these days are 
included in this collection as signalizing days to 
be remembered. 

In this book are contained stories bearing on 
our holidays and annual celebrations, from Hal- 
lowe’en to the Fourth of July. 







Our Holidays 


If all the year were playing holidays, 

To sport would be as tedious as to work. 

Shakspere. King Henry IV, Part I. 



BY HENRY JOHNSTONE 


Oh, Friday night ’s the queen of nights, because it 
ushers in 

The Feast of good St. Saturday, when studying is a 
sin, 

When studying is a sin, boys, and we may go to play 

Not only in the afternoon, but all the livelong day. 

St. Saturday — so legends say — lived in the ages when 

The use of leisure still was known and current among 
men; 

Full seldom and full slow he toiled, and even as he 
wrought 

He ’d sit him down and rest awhile, immersed in pious 
thought. 

He loved to fold his good! old arms, to cross his good 
old knees, 

And in a famous elbow-chair for hours he ’d take his 


ease; 


4 OUR HOLIDAYS 

He had a word for old and young, and when the village 
boys 

Came out to play, he ’d smile on them and never mind 
the noise. 

So when his time came, honest man, the neighbors all 
declared 

That one of keener intellect could better have been 
spared ; 

By young and old his loss was mourned in cottage 
and in hall, 

For if he ’d done them little good, he ’d done no harm 
at all. 


In time they made a saint of him, and issued a decree — 

Since he had loved his ease so well, and been so glad 
to see 

The children frolic round him and to smile upon their 
play— 

That school boys for his sake should have a weekly 
holiday. 

They gave his name unto the day, that as the years 
roll by 

His memory might still be green ; and that ’s the reason 
why 

We speak his name with gratitude, and oftener by far 

Than that of any other saint in all the calendar. 



6 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


Then, lads and lassies, great and small, give ear to 
what I say — 

Refrain from work on Saturdays as strictly as you 
may; 

So shall the saint your patron be and prosper all you 
do— 

And when examinations come he ’ll see you safely 
through. 


Hallowe’en 

October 31 

The Eve of All Saints’ Day 


This night is known in some places as Nut- 
crack Night, or Snapapple Night. Supernat- 
ural influences are pretended to prevail and 
hence all kinds of superstititions were formerly 
connected with it. It is now usually celebrated 
by children’s parties, when certain special games 
are played. 


ALL-HALLOW-EVE MYTHS 


BY DAVID BROWN 

AS the world grows old and wise, it ceases to 
ii . believe in many of its superstitions. But, al- 
though they are no longer believed in, the customs 
connected with them do not always die out ; they 
often linger on through centuries, and, from hav- 
ing once been serious religious rites, or something 
real in the life of the people, they become at last 
mere children's plays or empty usages, often most 
zealously enjoyed by those who do not understand 
their meaning. 

All-hallow Eve is now, in our country towns, a 
time of careless frolic, and of great bonfires, 
which, I hear, are still kindled on the hill-tops in 
some places. We also find these fires in England, 
Scotland, and Ireland, and from their history we 
learn the meaning of our celebration. Some of 
you may know that the early inhabitants of Great 
Britain, Ireland, and parts of France were known 
as Celts, and that their religion was directed by 


9 


IO 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


strange priests called Druids. Three times in the 
year, on the first of May, for the sowing; at the 
solstice, June 21st, for the ripening and turn of 
the year; and on the eve of November 1st, for the 
harvesting, those mysterious priests of the Celts, 
the Druids, built fires on the hill-tops in France, 
Britain, and Ireland, in honor of the sun. At this 
last festival the Druids of all the region gathered 
in their white robes around the stone altar or 
cairn on the hill-top. Here stood an emblem 
of the sun, and on the cairn was a sacred fire, 
which had been kept burning through the year. 
The Druids formed about the fire, and, at a signal, 
quenched it, while deep silence rested on the 
mountains and valleys. Then the new fire 
gleamed on the cairn, the people in the valley 
raised a joyous shout, and from hill-top to hill-top 
other fires answered the sacred flame. On this 
night, all hearth-fires in the region had been put 
out, and they were kindled with brands from the 
sacred fire, which was believed to guard the 
households through the year. 

But the Druids disappeared from their sacred 
places, the cairns on the hill-tops became the 
monuments of a dead religion, and Christianity 
spread to the barbarous inhabitants of France and 


ALL-HALLOW-EVE MYTHS 


n 


the British Islands. Yet the people still clung to 
their old customs, and felt much of the old awe for 
them. Still they built their fires on the first of 
May, — at the solstice in June,— and on the eve of 
November 1st. The church found that it could 
not all at once separate the people from their old 
ways, so it gradually turned these ways to its own 
use, and the harvest festival of the Druids became 
in the Catholic Calendar the Eve of All Saints, for 
that is the meaning of the name “ All-hallow 
Eve.” In the seventh century, the Pantheon, the 
ancient Roman temple of all the gods, was conse- 
crated anew to the worship of the Virgin and of 
all holy martyrs. 

By its separation from the solemn character 
of the Druid festival, All-hallow Eve lost much 
of its ancient dignity, and became the carnival- 
night of the year for wild, grotesque rites. As 
century after century passed by, it came to be 
spoken of as the time when the magic powers, 
with which the peasantry, all the world over, filled 
the wastes and ruins, were supposed to swarm 
abroad to help or injure men. It was the time 
when those first dwellers in every land, the fairies, 
were said to come out from their grots and lurk- 
ing-places ; and in the darkness of the forests and 


12 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


the shadows of old ruins, witches and goblins 
gathered. In course of time, the hallowing fire 
came to be considered a protection against these 
malicious powers. It was a custom in the seven- 
teenth century for the master of a family to carry 
a lighted torch of straw around his fields, to pro- 
tect them from evil influence through the year, 
and as he went he chanted an invocation to the fire. 

The chief thing which we seek to impress upon 
your minds in connection with All-hallow Eve 
is that its curious customs show how no gener- 
ation of men is altogether separated from earlier 
generations. Far as we think we are from our 
uncivilized ancestors, much of what they did and 
thought has come into our doing and thinking, — 
with many changes perhaps, under different re- 
ligious forms, and sometimes in jest where they 
were in earnest. Still, these customs and ob- 
servances (of which All-hallow Eve is only one) 
may be called the piers, upon which rests a bridge 
that spans the wide past between us and the gen- 
erations that have gone before. 


Election Day 


The first Tuesday after the first Monday in November. 


This day is now a holiday so that every man 
may have an opportunity to cast his vote. 
Unlike most other holidays, it does not com- 
memorate an event, but it is a day which has 
a tremendous meaning if rightly looked upon 
and rightly used. Its true spirit and signifi- 
cance are well set forth in the following pages. 
By act of Congress the date for the choosing 
of Presidential electors is set for the first Tues- 
day after the first Monday in November in the 
years when Presidents are elected, and the dif- 
ferent States have now nearly all chosen the 
same day for the election of State officers. 


RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF CITIZENS 


BY S. E. FORMAN 

R EAD the bill of rights in the constitution of 
your State and you will find there, set down 
in plain black and white, the rights which you are 
to enjoy as an American citizen. This constitu- 
tion tells you that you have the right to your life, 
to your liberty, and to the property that you may 
honestly acquire ; that your body, your health and 
your reputation shall be protected from injury; 
that you may move freely from place to place un- 
molested; that you shall not be imprisoned or 
otherwise punished without a fair trial by an im- 
partial jury ; that you may worship God according 
to the promptings of your own conscience; that 
you may freely write and speak on any subject 
providing you do not abuse the privilege ; that you 
may peaceably assemble and petition government 
for the redress of grievances. These are civil 
rights. They, together with many others equally 
dear, are guaranteed by the State and national 
15 


i6 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


constitutions, and they belong to all American 
citizens. 

These civil rights, like the air and the sunshine, 
come to us in these days as a matter of course, but 
they did not come to our ancestors as a matter of 
course. To our ancestors rights came as the re- 
sult of hard-fought battles. The reading of the 
bill of rights would cause your heart to throb with 
gratitude did you but know the suffering and sac- 
rifice each right has cost. 

Now just as our rights have not been gained 
without a struggle, so they will not be maintained 
without a struggle. We may not have to fight 
with cannon and sword as did our forefathers in 
the Revolution, but we may be sure that if our lib- 
erty is to be preserved there will be fighting of 
some kind to do. Such precious things as human 
rights cannot be had for nothing. 

One of the hardest battles will be to fulfil the 
duties which accompany our rights, for every 
right is accompanied by a duty. If I can hold a 
man to his contract I ought (/ owe it) to pay my 
debts ; if I may worship as I please, I ought to re- 
frain from persecuting another on account of his 
religion ; if my property is held sacred, I ought to 
regard the property of another man as sacred ; if 


RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF CITIZENS 17 

the government deals fairly with me and does not 
oppress me, I ought to deal fairly with it and re- 
fuse to cheat it ; if I am allowed freedom of speech, 
I ought not to abuse the privilege; if I have a 
right to a trial by jury, I ought to respond when I 
am summoned to serve as a juror ; if I have a right 
to my good name and reputation, I ought not to 
slander my neighbor; if government shields me 
from injury, I ought to be ready to take up arms 
in its defense. 

Foremost among the rights of American citi- 
zenship is that of going to the polls and casting a 
ballot. This right of voting is not a civil right ; it 
is a political right which grew out of man’s long 
struggle for his civil rights. While battling with 
kings and nobles for liberty the people learned to 
distrust a privileged ruling class. They saw that 
if their civil rights were to be respected, govern- 
ment must pass into their own hands or into the 
hands of their chosen agents. Hence they de- 
manded political rights, the right of holding 
office and of voting at elections. 

The suffrage, or the right of voting, is some- 
times regarded as a natural right, one that be- 
longs to a person simply because he is a person. 

People will say that a man has as much right to 

2 


i8 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


vote as he has to acquire property or to defend 
himself from attack. But this is not a correct 
view. The right to vote is a franchise or privi- 
lege which the law gives to such citizens as are 
thought worthy of possessing it. It is easy to see 
that everybody cannot be permitted to vote. 
There must be certain qualifications, certain 
marks of fitness, required of a citizen before he 
can be entrusted with the right of sufifrage. 
These qualifications differ in the different States. 
In most States every male citizen over twenty-one 
years of age may vote. In four States, women as 
well as men exercise the right of suffrage. 

But the right of voting, like every other right, 
has its corresponding duty. No day brings more 
responsibilities than Election Day. The Ameri- 
can voter should regard himself as an officer of 
government. He is one of the members of the 
electorate , that vast governing body which con- 
sists of all the voters and which possesses supreme 
political power, controlling all the governments, 
federal and State and local. This electorate has 
in its keeping the welfare and the happiness of the 
American people. When, therefore, the voter 
takes his place in this governing body, that ' is, 


RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF CITIZENS 19 


when he enters the polling-booth and presumes to 
participate in the business of government, he as- 
sumes serious responsibilities. In the polling- 
booth he is a public officer charged with certain 
duties, and if he fails to discharge these duties 
properly he may work great injury. What are 
the duties of a voter in a self-governing country? 
If an intelligent man will ask himself the question 
and refer it to his conscience as well as deliberate 
upon it in his mind, he will conclude that he ought 
to do the following things : 

1. To vote whenever it is his privilege. 

2. To try to understand the questions upon which he 
votes. 

3. To learn something about the character and fit- 
ness of the men for whom he votes. 

4. To vote only for honest men for office. 

5. To support only honest measures. 

6. To give no bribe, direct or indirect, and to receive 
no bribe, direct or indirect. 

7. To place country above party. 

8. To recognize the result of the election as the 
will of the people and therefore as the law. 

9. To continue to vote for a righteous although 
defeated cause as long as there is a reasonable hope of 
victory. 


20 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


“ The proudest now is but my peer, 
The highest not more high ; 

To-day of all the weary year, 

A king of men am I. 

“To-day alike are great and small, 
The nameless and the known; 

My palace is the people’s hall, 

The ballot-box my throne ! ” 

Whittier. 


Thanksgiving Day 

Appointed by the President— usually the last Thursday 
in November. 


Now observed as a holiday in all the States, but 
not a legal holiday in all. The President’s proc- 
lamation recommends that it be set apart as a 
day of prayer and rejoicing. The day is of New 
England origin, the first one being set by Gov- 
ernor Bradford of the Massachusetts colony on 
December, 1621. Washington issued a thanks- 
giving proclamation for Thursday, December 
18, 1777, and again at Valley Forge for May 7, 
1778. The Thanksgiving of the present incor- 
porates many of the genial features of Christ- 
mas. The feast with the Thanksgiving turkey 
and pumpkin-pie crowns the day. Even the 
poorhouse has its turkey. The story of “An 
Old-Time Thanksgiving,” in “ Indian Stories” 
of this series, well brings out the original spirit 
of the day. 


A THANKSGIVING DINNER THAT 
FLEW AWAY 


BY H. BUTTERWORTH 


H ONK ! 5 
I 


spun around like a top, looking nervously 
in every direction. I was familiar with that 
sound ; I had heard it before, during two summer 
vacations, at the old farm-house on the Cape. 

It had been a terror to me. I always put a door, 
a fence, or a stone wall between me and that sound 
as speedily as possible. 

I had just come down from the city to the Cape 
for my third summer vacation. I had left the cars 
with my arms full of bundles, and hurried toward 
Aunt Targood’s. 

The cottage stood in from the road. There was 
a long meadow in front of it. In the meadow 
were two great oaks and some clusters of lilacs. 
An old, mossy stone wall protected the grounds 
from the road, and a long walk ran from the old 
wooden gate to the door. 

23 


24 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


It was a sunny day, and my heart was light. 
The orioles were flaming in the old orchards ; the 
bobolinks were tossing themselves about in the 
long meadows of timothy, daisies, and patches of 
clover. There was a scent of new-mown hay in 
the air. 

In the distance lay the bay, calm and resplen- 
dent, with white sails and specks of boats. Be- 
yond it rose Martha’s Vineyard, green and cool 
and bowery, and at its wharf lay a steamer. 

I was, as I said, light-hearted. I was thinking 
of rides over the sandy roads at the close of the 
long, bright days; of excursions on the bay; of 
clam-bakes and picnics. 

I was hungry; and before me rose visions of 
Aunt Targood’s fish dinners, roast chickens, berry 
pies. I was thirsty; but ahead was the old well- 
sweep, and, behind the cool lattice of the dairy 
window, were pans of milk in abundance. 

I tripped on toward the door with light feet, 
lugging my bundles and beaded with perspiration, 
but unmindful of all discomforts in the thought of 
the bright days and good things in store for me. 

“ Honk ! honk!” 

My heart gave a bound ! 

Where did that sound come from? 


A DINNER THAT FLEW AWAY 25 

Out of a cool cluster of innocent-looking lilac 
bushes, I saw a dark object cautiously moving. It 
seemed to have no head. I knew, however, that 
it had a head. I had seen it ; it had seized me once 
on the previous summer, and I had been in terror 
of it during all the rest of the season. 

I looked down into the irregular grass, and saw 
the head and a very long neck running along on 
the ground, propelled by the dark body, like a 
snake running away from a ball. It was coming 
toward me, and faster and faster as it approached. 

I dropped all my bundles. 

In a few flying leaps I returned to the road 
again, and armed myself with a stick from a pile 
of cord-wood. 

“ Honk ! honk ! honk ! ” 

It was a call of triumph. The head was high in 
the air now. My enemy moved grandly forward, 
as became the monarch of the great meadow 
farm-yard. 

I stood with beating heart, after my retreat. 

It was Aunt Tar good's gander. 

How he enjoyed his triumph, and how small 
and cowardly he made me feel ! 

“Honk! honk! honk!" 

The geese came out of the lilac bushes, bowing 


26 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


their heads to him in admiration. Then came the 
goslings— a long procession of awkward, half- 
feathered things : they appeared equally delighted. 

The gander seemed to be telling his admiring 
audience all about it: how a strange girl with 
many bundles had attempted to cross the yard; 
how he had driven her back, and had captured her 
bundles, and now was monarch of the field. He 
clapped his wings when he had finished his heroic 
story, and sent forth such a “honk!” as might 
have startled a major-general. 

Then he, with an air of great dignity and cool- 
ness, began to examine my baggage. 

Among my effects were several pounds of choc- 
olate caramels, done up in brown paper. Aunt 
Targood liked caramels, and I had brought her 
a large supply. 

He tore off the wrappers quickly. Bit one. It 
was good. He began to distribute the bon-bons 
among the geese, and they, with much liberality 
and good-will, among the goslings. 

This was too much. I ventured through the 
gate swinging my cord-wood stick. 

“ Shoo!” 

He dropped his head on the ground, and drove 
it down the walk in a lively waddle toward me. 


A DINNER THAT FLEW AWAY 


27 


“Shoo!” 

It was Aunt Targood’s voice at the door. 

He stopped immediately. 

His head was in the air again. 

“Shoo!” 

Out came Aunt Targood with her broom. 

She always corrected the gander with her 
broom. If I were to be whipped I should choose a 
broom— not the stick. 

As soon as he beheld the broom he retired, al- 
though with much offended pride and dignity, to 
the lilac bushes; and the geese and goslings fol- 
lowed him. 

“ Hester, you dear child, come here. I was ex- 
pecting you, and had been looking out for you, but 
missed sight of you. I had forgotten all about the 
gander.” 

We gathered up the bundles and the caramels. 
I was light-hearted again. 

How cool was the sitting-room, with the wood- 
bine falling about the open windows! Aunt 
brought me a pitcher of milk and some straw- 
berries ; some bread and honey ; and a fan. 

While I was resting and taking my lunch, I 
could hear the gander discussing the affairs of the 
farm-yard with the geese. I did not greatly enjoy 


28 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


the discussion. His tone of voice was very proud, 
and he did not seem to be speaking well of me. I 
was suspicious that he did not think me a very 
brave girl. A young person likes to be spoken 
well of, even by the gander. 

Aunt Targood’s gander had been the terror of 
many well-meaning people, and of some evil- 
doers, for many years. I have seen tramps and 
pack-peddlers enter the gate, and start on toward 
the door, when there would sound that ringing 
warning like a war-blast. “ Honk, honk ! ” and in 
a few minutes these unwelcome people would be 
gone. Farm-house boarders from the city would 
sometimes enter the yard, thinking to draw water 
by the old well-sweep: in a few minutes it was 
customary to hear shrieks, and to see women and 
children flying over the walls, followed by air- 
rending “ honks!” and jubilant cackles from the 
victorious gander and his admiring family. 

“ Aunt, what makes you keep that gander, year 
after year ? ” said I, one evening, as we were sit- 
ting on the lawn before the door. “ Is it because 
he is a kind of a watch-dog, and keeps troublesome 
people away? ” 

“ No, child, no ; I do not wish to keep most peo- 
ple away, not well-behaved people, nor to distress 


A DINNER THAT FLEW AWAY 


2g 


nor annoy any one. The fact is, there is a story 
about that gander that I do not like to speak of to 
every one — something that makes me feel tender 
toward him; so that if he needs a whipping, I 
would rather do it. He knows something that no 
one else knows. I could not have him killed or 
sent away. You have heard me speak of Na- 
thaniel, my oldest boy ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“That is his picture in my room, you know. 
He was a good boy to me. He loved his mother. 
I loved Nathaniel— you cannot think how much I 
loved Nathaniel. It was on my account that he 
went away. 

“ The farm did not produce enough for us all : 
Nathaniel, John, and I. We worked hard and had 
a hard time. One year— that was ten years ago— 
we were sued for our taxes. 

“ ‘ Nathaniel/ said I, ‘ I will go to taking 
boarders/ 

“Then he looked up to me and said (oh, how 
noble and handsome he appeared to me!) : 

“ ‘ Mother, I will go to sea/ 

“‘Where?* asked I, in surprise. 

“ ‘ In a coaster/ 

“ I turned white. How I felt ! 


30 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


(U You and John can manage the place/ he con- 
tinued. ‘One of the vessels sails next week — 
Uncle Aaron’s ; he offers to take me.’ 

“ It seemed best, and he made preparations to 
go. 

“The spring before, Skipper Ben— you have 
met Skipper Ben— had given me some goose 
eggs; he had brought them from Canada, and 
said that they were wild-goose eggs. 

“ I set them under hens. In four weeks I had 
three goslings. I took them into the house at first, 
but afterward made a pen for them out in the 
yard. I brought them up myself, and one of those 
goslings is that gander. 

“ Skipper Ben came over to see me, the day be- 
fore Nathaniel was to sail. Aaron came with 
him. 

“ I said to Aaron : 

“ ‘ What can I give to Nathaniel to carry to sea 
with him to make him think of home? Cake, pre- 
serves, apples ? I have n’t got much ; I have done 
all I can for him, poor boy.’ 

“ Brother looked at me curiously, and said : 

“ ‘ Give him one of those wild geese, and we will 
fatten it on shipboard and will have it for our 
Thanksgiving dinner.’ 


A DINNER THAT FLEW AWAY 


3i 


“What brother Aaron said pleased me. The 
young gander was a noble bird, the handsomest 
of the lot ; and I resolved to keep the geese to kill 
for my own use and to give him to Nathaniel. 

“The next morning— it was late in September 
— I took leave of Nathaniel. I tried to be calm 
and cheerful and hopeful. I watched him as he 
went down the walk with the gander struggling 
under his arms. A stranger would have laughed, 
but I did not feel like laughing; it was true that 
the boys who went coasting were usually gone 
but a few months and came home hardy and 
happy. But when poverty compels a mother 
and son to part, after they have been true to 
each other, and shared their feelings in common, 
it seems hard, it seems hard — though I do not 
like to murmur or complain at anything allotted 
to me. 

“I saw him go over the hill. On the top he 
stopped and held up the gander. He disappeared ; 
yes, my own Nathaniel disappeared. I think of 
him now as one who disappeared. 

“November came— it was a terrible month on 
the coast that year. Storm followed storm; the 
sea-faring people talked constantly of wrecks and 
losses. I could not sleep on the nights of those 


32 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


high winds. I used to lie awake thinking over all 
the happy hours I had lived with Nathaniel. 

“ Thanksgiving week came. 

"It was full of an Indian-summer brightness 
after the long storms. The nights were frosty, 
bright, and calm. 

“ I could sleep on those calm nights. 

"One morning, I thought I heard a strange 
sound in the woodland pasture. It was like a wild 
goose. I listened ; it was repeated. I was lying in 
bed. I started up— I thought I had been dream- 
ing. 

“ On the night before Thanksgiving I went to 
bed early, being very tired. The moon was full ; 
the air was calm and still. I was thinking of Na- 
thaniel, and I wondered if he would indeed have 
the gander for his Thanksgiving dinner: if it 
would be cooked as well as I would have cooked it, 
and if he would think of me that day. 

"I was just going to sleep, when suddenly I 
heard a sound that made me start up and hold my 
breath. 

“‘Honk!’ 

“ I thought it was a dream followed by a ner- 
vous shock. 


“‘Honk! honk!’ 


A DINNER THAT FLEW AWAY 


33 


“ There it was again, in the yard. I was surely 
awake and in my senses. 

“ I heard the geese cackle. 

‘“Honk! honk! honk!’ 

“ I got out of bed and lifted the curtain. It was 
almost as light as day. Instead of two geese there 
were three. Had one of the neighbors’ geese 
stolen away? 

“ I should have thought so, and should not have 
felt disturbed, but for the reason that none of the 
neighbors’ geese had that peculiar call— that 
hornlike tone that I had noticed in mine. 

“ I went out of the door. 

“ The third goose looked like the very gander I 
had given Nathaniel. Could it be? 

“ I did not sleep. I rose early and went to the 
crib for some corn. 

“ It was a gander— a 'wild’ gander— that had 
come in the night. He seemed to know me. 

"I trembled all over as though I had seen a 
ghost. I was so faint that I sat down on the meal- 
chest. 

“ As I was in that place, a bill pecked against 
the door. The door opened. The strange gander 
came hobbling over the crib-stone and went to the 
corn-bin. He stopped there, looked at me, and 


34 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


gave a sort of glad “ honk/’ as though he knew me 
and was glad to see me. 

“ I was certain that he was the gander I had 
raised, and that Nathaniel had lifted into the air 
when he gave me his last recognition from the 
top of the hill. 

“ It overcame me. It was Thanksgiving. The 
church bell would soon be ringing as on Sunday. 
And here was Nathaniel’s Thanksgiving dinner; 
and brother Aaron’s— had it flown away ? Where 
was the vessel? 

“ Years have passed— ten. You know I waited 
and waited for my boy to come back. December 
grew dark with its rainy seas; the snows fell; 
May lighted up the hills, but the vessel never came 
back. Nathaniel — my Nathaniel — never re- 
turned. 

“That gander knows something he could tell 
me if he could talk. Birds have memories. He 
remembered the corn-crib— he remembered some- 
thing else. I wish he could talk, poor bird! I 
wish he could talk. I will never sell him, nor kill 
him, nor have him abused. He knows! ” 


Whittier’s Birthday 

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 
Born December 17, 1807 Died September 7, 1892 


Whittier is known not only as a poet, but as a 
reformer and author. He was a member of the 
Society of Friends. He attended a New Eng- 
land academy ; worked on a farm ; taught school 
in order to afford further education, and at the 
age of twenty-two edited a paper at Boston. 
He was a leading opponent of slavery and was 
several times attacked by mobs on account of 
his opinions. 


THE BOYHOOD OF JOHN GREENLEAF 
WHITTIER 


BY WILLIAM H. RIDEING 

HE life of Whittier may be read in his poems, 



X and, by putting a note here and a date there, 
a full autobiography might be compiled from 
them. His boyhood and youth are depicted in 
them with such detail that little need be added to 
make the story complete, and that little, reverently 
done as it may be, must seem poor in comparison 
with the poetic beauty of his own revelations. 

What more can we do to show his early home 
than to quote from his own beautiful poem, 
“ Snow-bound ” ? There the house is pictured for 
us, inside and out, with all its furnishings; and 
those who gather around its hearth, inmates and 
visitors, are set before us so clearly that long after 
the book has been put away they remain as dis- 
tinct in the memory as portraits that are visible 
day after day on the walls of our own homes. He 
reproduces in his verse the landscapes he saw, the 


37 


38 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


legends of witches and Indians he listened to, the 
schoolfellows he played with, the voices of the 
woods and fields, and the round of toil and plea- 
sure in a country boy’s life ; and in other poems his 
later life, with its impassioned devotion to free- 
dom and lofty faith, is reflected as lucidly as his 
youth is in “ Snow-bound ” and “ The Barefoot 
Boy.” 

He himself was “The Barefoot Boy,” and 
what Robert Burns said of himself Whittier 
might repeat : “ The poetic genius of my country 
found me, as the prophetic bard Elijah did Elisha, 
at the plow, and threw her inspiring mantle over 
me.” He was a farmer’s son, born at a time when 
farm-life in New England was more frugal than 
it is now, and with no other heritage than the 
good name and example of parents and kinsmen, 
in whom simple virtues— thrift, industry, and 
piety — abounded. 

His birthplace still stands near Haverhill, 
Mass., — a house in one of the hollows of the sur- 
rounding hills, little altered from what it was in 
1807, the year he was born, when it was already 
at least a century and a half old. 

He had no such opportunities for culture as 
Holmes and Lowell had in their youth. His pa- 


Whittier’s birthplace, near haverhill, mass. 








40 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


rents were intelligent and upright people of lim- 
ited means, who lived in all the simplicity of the 
Quaker faith, and there was nothing in his early 
surroundings to encourage and develop a literary 
taste. Books were scarce, and the twenty volumes 
on his father’s shelves were, with one exception, 
about Quaker doctrines and Quaker heroes. The 
exception was a novel, and that was hidden away 
from the children, for fiction was forbidden fruit. 
No library or scholarly companionship was within 
reach ; and if his gift had been less than genius, it 
could never have triumphed over the many disad- 
vantages with which it had to contend. Instead 
of a poet he would have been a farmer like his 
forefathers. But literature was a spontaneous 
impulse with him, as natural as the song of a bird ; 
and he was not wholly dependent on training and 
opportunity, as he would have been had he pos- 
sessed mere talent. 

Frugal from necessity, the life of the Whittiers 
was not sordid nor cheerless to him, moreover; 
and he looks back to it as tenderly as if it had been 
full of luxuries. It was sweetened by strong af- 
fections, simple tastes, and an unflinching sense of 
duty ; and in all the members of the household the 
love of nature was so genuine that meadow, wood, 


4i 


JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 

and river yielded them all the pleasure they 
needed, and they scarcely missed the refinements 
of art. 

Surely there could not be a pleasanter or 
more homelike picture than that which the poet 
has given us of the family on the night of 
the great storm when the old house was snow- 
bound : 


Shut in from all the world without, 

We sat the clean-winged hearth about, 
Content to let the north wind roar 
In baffled rage at pane and door, 

While the red logs before us beat 
The frost-line back with tropic heat. 
And ever when a louder blast 
Shook beam and rafter as it passed, 

The merrier up its roaring draught 
The great throat of the chimney laughed. 
The house-dog on his paws outspread, 
Laid to the fire his drowsy head ; 

The cat’s dark silhouette on the wall 
A couchant tiger’s seemed to fall, 

And for the winter fireside meet 
Between the andiron’s straddling feet 
The mug of cider simmered slow, 

The apples sputtered in a row, 

And close at hand the basket stood 
With nuts from brown October’s wood.” 


42 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


For a picture of the poet himself we must turn 
to the verses in “ The Barefoot Boy,” in which he 
says : 

“ O for boyhood’s time of June, 

Crowding years in one brief moon, 

When all things I heard or saw, 

Me, their master, waited for. 

I was rich in flowers and trees, 
Humming-birds and honey-bees ; 

For my sport the squirrel played, 

Plied the snouted mole his spade ; 

For my taste the blackberry cone 
Purpled over hedge and stone; 

Laughed the brook for my delight 
Through the day and through the night, 
Whispering at the garden-wall, 

Talked with me from fall to fall; 

Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, 

Mine the walnut slopes beyond, 

Mine on bending orchard trees, 

Apples of Hesperides! 

Still as my horizon grew, 

Larger grew my riches, too; 

All the world I saw or knew 
Seemed a complex Chinese toy, 

Fashioned for a barefoot boy !” 1 

I doubt if any boy ever rose to intellectual emi- 
nence who had fewer opportunities for education 


JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 


43 



THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE, HAVERHILL, MASS. 


than Whittier. He had no such pasturage to 
browse on as is open to every reader who, by sim- 
ply reaching them out, can lay his hands on the 
treasures of English literature. He had to bor- 
row books wherever they could be found among 
the neighbors who were willing to lend, and he 
thought nothing of walking several miles for one 
volume. The only instruction he received was at 
the district school, which was open a few weeks 
in midwinter, and at the Haverhill Academy, 
which he attended two terms of six months each, 
paying tuition by work in spare hours, and by 
keeping a small school himself. A feeble spirit 
would have languished under such disadvantages. 
But Whittier scarcely refers to them, and in- 


44 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


stead of begging for pity, he takes them as 
part of the common lot, and seems to remem- 
ber only what was beautiful and good in his early 
life. 

Occasionally a stranger knocked at the door of 
the old homestead in the valley ; sometimes it was 
a distinguished Quaker from abroad, but oftener 
it was a peddler or some vagabond begging for 
food, which was seldom refused. Once a for- 
eigner came and asked for lodgings for the night 
—a dark, repulsive man, whose appearance was 
so much against him that Mrs. Whittier was 
afraid to admit him. No sooner had she sent him 
away, however, than she repented. “What if a 
son of mine was in a strange land ? ” she thought. 
The young poet (who was not yet recognized as 
such) offered to go out in search of him, and pres- 
ently returned with him, having found him stand- 
ing in the roadway just as he had been turned 
away from another house. 

“ He took his seat with us at the supper-table,” 
says Whittier in one of his prose sketches, “ and 
when we were all gathered around the hearth that 
cold autumnal evening, he told us, partly by words 
and partly by gestures, the story of his life and 
misfortunes, amused us with descriptions of the 



















































































































x 

. 


























' 



























































JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 


JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 


47 


grape-gatherings and festivals of his sunny clime, 
edified my mother with a recipe for making bread 
of chestnuts, and in the morning, when, after 
breakfast, his dark sallow face lighted up, and 
his fierce eyes moistened with grateful emotion as 
in his own silvery Tuscan accent he poured out his 
thanks, we marveled at the fears which had so 
nearly closed our doors against him, and as he de- 
parted we all felt that he had left with us the 
blessing of the poor.” 

Another guest came to the house one day. It 
was a vagrant old Scotchman, who, when he had 
been treated to bread and cheese and cider, sang 
some of the songs of Robert Burns, which Whit- 
tier then heard for the first time, and which he 
never forgot. Coming to him thus as songs 
reached the people before printing was invented, 
through gleemen and minstrels, their sweetness 
lingered in his ears, and he soon found himself 
singing in the same strain. Some of his earliest 
inspirations were drawn from Burns, and he tells 
us of his joy when one day, after the visit of the 
old Scotchman, his schoolmaster loaned him a 
copy of that poet's works. “I began to make 
rhymes myself, and to imagine stories and adven- 
tures,” he says in his simple way. 


48 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


Indeed, he began to rhyme very early and kept 
his gift a secret from all, except his oldest; sister, 
fearing that his father, who was a prosaic man, 
would think that he was wasting time. He wrote 
under the fence, in the attic, in the barn— wher- 
ever he could escape observation ; and as pen and 
ink were not always available, he sometimes used 
chalk, and even charcoal. Great was the surprise 
of the family when some of his verses were un- 
earthed, literally unearthed, from under a heap of 
rubbish in a garret ; but his father frowned upon 
these evidences of the bent of his mind, not out of 
unkindness, but because he doubted the sufficiency 
of the boy’s education for a literary life, and did 
not wish to inspire him with hopes which might 
never be fulfilled. 

His sister had faith in him, nevertheless, and, 
without his knowledge, she sent one of his poems 
to the editor of The Free Press , a newspaper pub- 
lished in Newburyport. Whittier was helping his 
father to repair a stone wall by the roadside 
when the carrier flung a copy of the paper to him, 
and, unconscious that anything of his was in it, he 
opened it and glanced up and down the columns. 
His eyes fell on some verses called “ The Exile’s 
Departure.” 


JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 49 

“ Fond scenes, which delighted my youthful existence, 
With feelings of sorrow I bid ye adieu — 

A lasting adieu ; for now, dim in the distance, 

The shores of Hibernia recede from my view. 
Farewell to the cliffs, tempest-beaten and gray, 
Which guard the loved shores of my own native 
land; 

Farewell to the village and sail-shadowed bay, 

The forest-crowned hill and the water-washed 
strand.” 

His eyes swam; it was his own poem, the first 
he ever had in print. 

“ What is the matter with thee ? ” his father de- 
manded, seeing how dazed he was ; but, though he 



Whittier’s study at amesbury, mass. 


50 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


resumed his work on the wall, he could not speak, 
and he had to steal a glance at the paper again and 
again, before he could convince himself that he 
was not dreaming. Sure enough, the poem was 
there with his initial at the foot of it, — “ W., Hav- 
erhill, June i st, 1826,”— and, better still, this edi- 
torial notice: “ If ‘ W./ at Haverhill, will continue 
to favor us with pieces beautiful as the one in- 
serted in our poetical department of to-day, we 
shall esteem it a favor.” 

Fame never passes true genius by, and when it 
came it brought with it the love and reverence of 
thousands, who recognize in Whittier a nature 
abounding in patience, unselfishness, and all the 
sweetness of Christian charity. 

x The selections from Mr. Whittier’s poems contained in this 
article are included by kind .'permission of Messrs. Houghton, 
Mifflin & Co. 


Christmas 

December 25 


A festival held every year in memory of the 
birth of Christ. Christmas is essentially a day 
of rejoicing and thanksgiving and of good 
will toward others. Many customs older than 
Christianity mark the festivities. In our coun- 
try the observance of the day was discouraged 
in colonial times, and in England in 1643 Par- 
liament abolished the day. Now its celebration 
is world-wide and by all classes and creeds. 


HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES 
CHRISTMAS 


BY CLIFFORD HOWARD 

O F course Uncle Sam is best acquainted with 
the good old-fashioned Christmas— the kind 
we have known all about since we were little bits 
of children. There are the Christmas trees with 
their pretty decorations and candles, and the mis- 
tletoe and holly and all sorts of evergreens to make 
the house look bright, while outside the trees are 
bare, the ground is white with snow, and Jack 
Frost is prowling around, freezing up the ponds 
and pinching people’s noses. And then there is 
dear old Santa Claus with his reindeer, galloping 
about on the night before Christmas, and scram- 
bling down chimneys to fill the stockings that 
hang in a row by the fireplace. 

It is the time of good cheer and happiness and 
presents for everybody ; the time of chiming bells 
and joyful carols ; of turkey and candy and plum- 
pudding and all the other good things that go to 

S3 


54 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


make up a truly merry Christmas. And here and 
there throughout the country, some of the quaint 
old customs of our forefathers are still observed 
at this time, as, for instance, the pretty custom of 
“ Christmas waits boys and girls who go about 
from house to house on Christmas eve, or early 
Christmas morning, singing carols. 

But, aside from the Christmas customs we all 
know so well, Uncle Sam has many strange and 
special ways of observing Christmas; for in this 
big country of his there are many different kinds 
of people, and they all do not celebrate Christmas 
in the same way, as you shall see. 

IN THE SOUTH 

Siss! Bang! Boom! Sky-rockets hissing, crack- 
ers snapping, cannons roaring, horns tooting, 
bells ringing, and youngsters shouting with wild 
delight. That is the way Christmas begins down 
South. 

It starts at midnight, or even before; and all 
day long fire-crackers are going off in the streets 
of every city, town, and village of the South, from 
Virginia to Louisiana. A Northern boy, waking 
up suddenly in New Orleans or Mobile or Atlanta, 



CHRISTMAS IN THE SOUTH 



HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 57 

would think he was in the midst of a rousing 
Fourth-of-July celebration. In some of the towns 
the brass bands come out and add to the jollity of 
the day by marching around and playing “My 
Maryland ” and “ Dixie ” ; while the soldier com- 
panies parade up and down the streets to the 
strains of joyous music and fire salutes with can- 
nons and rifles. 

To the girls and boys of the South, Christmas 
is the noisiest and jolliest day of the year. The 
Fourth of July does n’t compare with it. And 
as for the darkies, they look upon Christmas as 
a holiday that was invented for their especial hap- 
piness. They take it for granted that all the 
“ white folks ” they know will give them presents ; 
and with grinning faces they are up bright and 
early, asking for “ Christmus gif’, mistah ; Christ- 
mus gif’, missus.” No one thinks of refusing 
them, and at the end of the day they are richer 
and happier than at any other time during the 
whole year. 

Except for the jingle of sleigh-bells and the 
presence of Jack Frost, a Christmas in the South 
is in other ways very much like that in the North. 
The houses are decorated with greens, mistletoe 
hangs above the doorways, Santa Claus comes 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


58 

down the chimneys and fills the waiting stockings, 
while Christmas dinner is not complete without 
the familiar turkey and cranberry sauce, phim 
puddings and pies. 

IN NEW ENGLAND 

For a great many years there was no Christmas 
in New England. The Pilgrims and the Puritans 
did not believe in such celebrations. In fact, they 
often made it a special point to do their hardest 
work on Christmas day, just to show their con- 
tempt for what they considered a pagan festival. 
During colonial times there was a law in Massa- 
chusetts forbidding any one to celebrate Christ- 
mas ; and if anybody was so rash in those days as 
to go about tooting a horn and shouting a “ Merry 
Christmas ! ” he was promptly brought to his 
senses by being arrested and punished. 

Of course things are very different in New 
England now, but in many country towns the peo- 
ple still make more of Thanksgiving than they do 
of Christmas; and there are hundreds of New 
England men and women still living who knew 
nothing of Christmas as children— who never 
hung up their stockings; who never waited for 


CHRISTMAS SPORTS IN NEW ENGLAND 







HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 61 

Santa Claus ; who never had a tree ; who never 
even had a Christmas present! 

Nowadays, however, Christmas in New Eng- 
land is like Christmas anywhere else ; but here and 
there, even now, the effects of the early Puritan 
ideas may still be seen. In some of the smaller 
and out-of-the-way towns and villages you will 
find Christmas trees and evergreens in only a very 
few of the houses, and in some places— particu- 
larly in New Hampshire — one big Christmas tree 
does for the whole town. This tree is set up in the 
town hall, and there the children go to get their 
gifts, which have been hung on the branches by 
the parents. Sometimes the tree has no decora- 
tions— no candles, no popcorn strings, no shiny 
balls. After the presents are taken off and given 
to the children, the tree remains perfectly bare. 
There is usually a short entertainment of recita- 
tions and songs, and a speech or two perhaps, and 
then the little folks, carrying their presents with 
them, go back to their homes. 

IN NEW MEXICO 

In certain parts of New Mexico, among the old 
Spanish settlements, the celebration of Christmas 


62 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


begins more than a week before the day. In the 
evenings, a party of men and women go together 
to the house of some friend— a different house 
being visited each evening. When they arrive, 
they knock on the door and begin to sing, and 
when those in the house ask, “Who is there ?” 
they reply, “The Virgin Mary and St. Joseph 
seek lodgings in your house.” At first the in- 
mates of the house refuse to let them in. This is 
done to carry out the Bible story of Joseph and 
Mary being unable to find lodgings in Bethlehem. 
But in a little while the door is opened and the 
visitors are heartily welcomed. As soon as they 
enter, they kneel and repeat a short prayer ; and 
when the devotional exercises are concluded, the 
rest of the evening is spent in merrymaking. 

On Christmas eve the people of the village 
gather together in some large room or hall and 
give a solemn little play, commemorating the 
birthday of the Saviour. One end of the room is 
used as a stage, and This is fitted up to represent 
the stable and the manger ; and the characters in 
the sacred story of Bethlehem— Mary and Joseph, 
the shepherds, the wise men, and the angels — are 
represented in the tableaux, and with a genuine, 


HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 63 

reverential spirit. Even the poorer people of the 
town take part in these Christmas plays. 

AMONG THE SHAKERS 

The Shakers observe Christmas by a dinner at 
which the men and women both sit down at the 
same table. This custom of theirs is the thing 
that serves to make Christmas different from any 
other day among the Shakers. During all the 
rest of the year the men and women eat their 
meals at separate tables. 

At sunset on Christmas day, after a service in 
the church, they march to the community-house, 
where the dinner is waiting. The men sit on one 
side of the table and the women on the other. At 
the head sits an old man called the elder, who be- 
gins the meal by saying grace, after which each 
one in turn gets up and, lifting the right hand, 
says in a solemn voice, “ God is love.” The dinner 
is eaten in perfect silence. Not a voice is heard 
until the meal comes to an end. Then the men 
and women rise and sing, standing in their places 
at the table. As the singing proceeds they mark 
time with their hands and feet. Then their bodies 


6 4 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


begin to sway from side to side in the peculiar 
manner that has given this sect its name of 
Shakers. 

When the singing comes to an end, the elder 
chants a prayer, after which the men and women 
silently file out and leave the building. 

AMONG THE PENNSYLVANIA GERMANS 

“ You ’d better look out, or Pelznickel will catch 
you ! ” This is the dire threat held over naughty 
boys and girls at Christmas-time in some of the 
country settlements of the Pennsylvania Germans, 
or Pennsylvania Dutch, as they are often called. 

Pelznickel is another name for Santa Claus. 
But he is not altogether the same old Santa that 
we welcome so gladly. On Christmas eve some 
one in the neighborhood impersonates Pelznickel 
by dressing up as an old man with a long white 
beard. Arming himself with a switch and carry- 
ing a bag of toys over his shoulder, he goes from 
house to house, where the children are expecting 
him. 

He asks the parents how the little ones have be- 
haved themselves during the year. To each of 
those who have been good he gives a present from 



\ 



A VISIT FROM l’ELZNICKEL 


HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 67 

his bag. But — woe betide the naughty ones! 
These are not only supposed to get no presents, 
but Pelznickel catches them by the collar and play- 
fully taps them with his switch. 

IN PORTO RICO 

The Porto Rican boys and girls would be 
frightened out of their wits if Santa Claus should 
come to them in a sleigh drawn by reindeer and 
should try to enter the houses and fill their stock- 
ings. Down there, Santa Claus does not need 
reindeer or any other kind of steeds, for the chil- 
dren say that he just conies flying through the air 
like a bird. Neither does he bother himself look- 
ing for stockings, for such things are not so 
plentiful in Porto Rico as they are in cooler cli- 
mates. Instead of stockings, the children use 
little boxes, which they make themselves. These 
they place on the roofs and in the courtyards, and 
old Santa Claus drops the gifts into them as he 
flies around at night with his bag on his back. 

He is more generous in Porto Rico than he is 
anywhere else. He does not come on Christmas 
eve only, but is likely to call around every night 
or two during the week. Each morning, there- 


68 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


fore, the little folks run out eagerly to see whether 
anything more has been left in their boxes during 
the night. 

Christmas in Porto Rico is a church festival of 
much importance, and the celebration of it is made 
up chiefly of religious ceremonies intended to com- 
memorate the principal events in the life of the 
Saviour. Beginning with the celebration of his 
birth, at Christmas-time, the feast-days follow one 
another in rapid succession. Indeed, it may justly 
be said that they do not really come to an end 
until Easter. 

One of the most popular of these festival-days 
is that known as Bethlehem day. This is cele- 
brated on the 1 2th of January, in memory of the 
coming of the Magi. The celebration consists of 
a procession of children through the streets of the 
town. The foremost three, dressed in flowing 
robes to represent the wise men of the East, come 
riding along on ponies, holding in their hands the 
gifts for the Infant King; following them come 
angels and shepherds and flute-players, all repre- 
sented by children dressed in pretty costumes and 
carrying garlands of flowers. These processions 
are among the most picturesque of all Christmas 
celebrations. 










I 



BETHLEHEM DAY IN PORTO RICO 



HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 71 


AMONG THE MORAVIANS 

For many days before Christmas the Mora- 
vian housewives in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, are 
busy in their kitchens making good things for 
the holidays— mint-cakes, pepper-nuts, Kummel- 
brod, sugar-cake, mince-pies, and, most important 
of all, large quantities of “ Christmas cakes.” 
These Christmas cakes are a kind of ginger cooky, 
crisp and spicy, and are made according to a 
recipe known only to the Moravians. They are 
made in all sorts of curious shapes— birds, horses, 
bears, lions, fishes, turtles, stars, leaves, and 
funny little men and women; so that they are not 
only good to eat, but are ornamental as well, and 
are often used by the good fathers and mothers as 
decorations for the “Putz.” 

Every Moravian family has its Putz at Christ- 
mas-time. This consists of a Christmas tree sur- 
rounded at its base by a miniature landscape made 
up of moss and greens and make-believe rocks, 
and adorned with toy houses and tiny fences and 
trees and all sorts of little animals and toy people. 

On Christmas eve a love-feast is held in the 
church. The greater part of the service is de- 
voted to music, for which the Moravians have 





HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 73 

always been noted. While the choir is singing, 
cake and coffee are brought in and served to all 
the members of the congregation, each one re- 
ceiving a good-sized bun and a large cup of coffee. 
Shortly before the end of the meeting lighted wax 
candles carried on large trays are brought into 
the church, by men on one side and women on the 
other, and passed around to the little folks— one 
for each boy and girl. This is meant to represent 
the coming of the Light into the world, and is but 
one of the many beautiful customs observed by 
the Moravians. 


IN ALASKA 

“ Going around with the star” is a popular 
Christmas custom among some of the natives of 
Alaska who belong to the Greek Church. A 
large figure of a star, covered with brightly 
colored paper, is carried about at night by a pro- 
cession of men and women and children. They 
call at the homes of the well-to-do families of the 
village, marching about from house to house, 
headed by the star-bearer and two men or boys 
carrying lanterns on long poles. They are 
warmly welcomed at each place, and are invited 
to come in and have some refreshments. After 


74 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


enjoying the cakes and other good things, and 
singing one or two carols, they take up the star 
and move on to the next house. 

These processions take place each night during 
Christmas week; but after the second night the 
star-bearers are followed by men and boys dressed 
in fantastic clothes, who try to catch the star-men 
and destroy their stars. This part of the game is 
supposed to be an imitation of the soldiers of 
Herod trying to destroy the children of Bethle- 
hem; but these happy folks of Alaska evidently 
don't think much about its meaning, for they 
make a great frolic of it. Everybody is full of 
fun, and the frosty air of the dark winter nights 
is filled with laughter as men and boys and romp- 
ing girls chase one another here and there in 
merry excitement. 


IN HAWAII 

The natives of Hawaii say that Santa Claus 
comes over to the islands in a boat. Perhaps he 
does; it would be a tedious journey for his rein- 
deer to make without stopping from San Fran- 
cisco to Honolulu. At all events, he gets there 
by some means or other, for he would not neglect 
the little folks of those islands away out in the 
Pacific. 




CHRISTMAS IN THE PHILIPPINES 




HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 77 

They look for him as eagerly as do the boys 
and girls in the lands of snow and ice, and al- 
though it must almost melt him to get around in 
that warm climate with his furs on, he never 
misses a Christmas. 

Before the missionaries and the American set- 
tlers went to Hawaii, the natives knew nothing 
about Christmas, but now they all celebrate the 
day, and do it, of course, in the same way as the 
Americans who live there. The main difference 
between Christmas in Honolulu and Christmas in 
New York is that in Honolulu in December the 
weather is like June in New York. Birds are 
warbling in the leafy trees; gardens are over- 
flowing with roses and carnations; fields and 
mountain slopes are ablaze with color; and a 
sunny sky smiles dreamily upon the glories of a 
summer day. In the morning people go to 
church, and during the day there are sports and 
games and merry-making of all sorts. The 
Christmas dinner is eaten out of doors in the 
shade of the veranda, and everybody is happy and 
contented. 

IN THE PHILIPPINES 

“ Buenas pasquas ! ” This is the hearty greet- 
ing that comes to the dweller in the Philippines 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


78 

on Christmas morning, and with it, perhaps, an 
offering of flowers. 

The Filipino, like the Porto Rican and all 
others who have lived under Spanish rule, look 
upon Christmas as a great religious festival, and 
one that requires very special attention. On 
Christmas eve the churches are open, and the 
coming of the great day is celebrated by a mass 
at midnight; and during all of Christmas day 
mass is held every hour, so that every one may 
have an opportunity to attend. Even the popular 
Christmas customs among the people are nearly 
all of a religious character, for most of them con- 
sist of little plays or dramas founded upon the life 
of the Saviour. 

These plays are called pastores, and are per- 
formed by bands of young men and women, and 
sometimes mere boys and girls, who go about 
from village to village and present their simple 
little plays to expectant audiences at every stop- 
ping-place. The visit of the wise men, the flight 
into Egypt— these and many other incidents as 
related in the Scriptures are acted in these pas- 
tores . 


New Year’s Day 

January 1 


The custom of celebrating the first day of the 
year is a very ancient one. The exchange of 
gifts, the paying of calls, the making of good 
resolutions for the new year and feasting often 
characterize the day. The custom of ringing 
the church bells is of the widest extent. 

The old-world custom of sitting up on New 
Year’s night to see the old year out is still very 
common. 


EXTRACT FROM “SOCIAL LIFE IN 
THE COLONIES” 


The Century Magazine , July , 1885 


BY EDWARD EGGLESTON 



EW YEAR’S DAY was celebrated among the 


1M New York Dutch by the calls of the gentle- 
men on their lady friends; it is perhaps the only 
distinctly Dutch custom that afterward came into 
widespread use in the United States. New Year’s 
Day, and the church festivals kept alike by the 
Dutch and English, brought an intermission of 
labor to the New York slaves, who gathered in 
throngs to devote themselves to wild frolics. The 
Brooklyn fields were crowded with them on New 
Year’s Day, at Easter, at Whitsuntide, or 
“ Prixter,” as the Dutch called it, and on “ San 
Claus Day” — the feast of St. Nicholas. 


81 


A CHINESE NEW YEAR'S IN 
CALIFORNIA 

BY H. H. 

T HE Chinese in California have a week of 
holiday at their New Year's in February, 
just as we do between the twenty-fifth of Decem- 
ber and the first of January. 

In the cities they make a fine display of fire- 
works. They use barrels full of fire-crackers, and 
the Chinese boys do not fire them off, as the 
American boys do, a cracker at a time ; they bring 
out a large box full, or a barrel full, and fire them 
off package after package, as fast as they can. 

In Santa Barbara, where I was during the Chi- 
nese New Year's of 1882, we heard the crackers 
long before we reached Chinatown. After these 
stopped we went into the houses. Every Chinese 
family keeps open house on New Year's day all 
day long. They set up a picture or an image of 
their god in some prominent place, and on a table 

82 


THE CHINESE NEW YEAR’S 83 

in front of this they put a little feast of good 
things to eat. Some are for an offering to the 
god and some are for their friends who call. 
Every one is expected to take something. 

There was no family so poor that it did not 
have something set out, and some sort of a shrine 
made for its idol; in some houses it was only a 
coarse wooden box turned up on one end like a 
cupboard, with two or three little teacups full of 
rice or tea, and one poor candle burning before 
a paper picture of the god pasted or tacked at the 
back of the box. 

It was amusing to watch the American boys 
darting about from shop to shop and house to 
house, coming out with their hands full of queer 
Chinese things to eat, showing them to each other 
and comparing notes. 

“Oh, let me taste that!” one boy would ex- 
claim on seeing some new thing; and “ Where did 
you get it ? Which house gives that ? ” Then the 
whole party would race off to make a descent on 
that house and get some more. I thought it won- 
derfully hospitable on the part of the Chinese peo- 
ple to let all these American boys run in and out 
of their houses in that way, and help themselves 
from the New Year's feast. 


8 4 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


Some of the boys were very rude and ill-man- 
nered — little better than street beggars; but the 
Chinese were polite and generous to them all. 
The joss-house, where they held their religious 
services, was a chamber opening out upon an up- 
per balcony. This balcony was hung with lan- 
terns and decorated. The door at the foot of the 
stairs which led to this chamber stood open all day, 
and any one who wished could go up and say his 
prayers in the Chinese fashion, which is a curious 
fashion indeed. They have slender reeds with 
tight rolls of brown paper fastened at one end. 
In front of the image or picture of their god they 
set a box or vase of ashes, on which a little sandal- 
wood is kept burning. When they wish to make 
a prayer they stick one of the reeds down in these 
ashes and set the paper on fire. They think the 
smoke of the burning paper will carry the prayer 
up to heaven. 

I asked a Chinese man who could speak a little 
English why they put teacups of wine and tea and 
rice before their god ; if they believed that the god 
would eat and drink. 

“ Oh, no,” he said, “ that not what for. What 
you like self, you give god. He see. He like 
see.” 


Lincoln’s Birthday 

February 12 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
Born February 12, 1809 Died April 15, 1865 


Lincoln was the sixteenth President of the 
United States. He was descended from a 
Quaker family of English origin. He fol- 
lowed various occupations, including those of 
a farm laborer, a salesman, a merchant, and a 
surveyor; was admitted to the bar in 1836 
and began the practice of law in this year. 
He was twice elected President, the second 
time receiving 212 out of 233 electoral votes. 
He was shot by John Wilkes Booth at Ford’s 
Theater, Washington, April 14, 1865, and 
died the following day. 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN 


BY HELEN NICOLAY 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN was not an ordinary 
l \ man. He was, in truth, in the language 
of the poet Lowell, a “ new birth of our new soil.” 
His greatness did not consist in growing up on 
the frontier. An ordinary man would have 
found on the frontier exactly what he would have 
found elsewhere— a commonplace life, varying 
only with the changing ideas and customs of 
time and place. But for the man with extraor- 
dinary powers of mind and body, for one gifted 
by Nature as Abraham Lincoln was gifted, the 
pioneer life, with its severe training in self-denial, 
patience, and industry, developed his character, 
and fitted him for the great duties of his after 
life as no other training could have done. 

His advancement in the astonishing career 
that carried him from obscurity to world-wide 
fame— from postmaster of New Salem village to 
87 


88 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


President of the United States, from captain of 
a backwoods volunteer company to Commander- 
in-chief of the army and navy — was neither 
sudden nor accidental nor easy. He was both 
ambitious and successful, but his ambition was 
moderate, and his success was slow. And, because 



Lincoln’s home after his marriage 


his success was slow, it never outgrew either his 
judgment or his powers. Between the day when 
he left his father's cabin and launched his canoe 
on the head waters of the Sangamon River to 
begin life on his own account, and the day of his 


ABRAHAM LINCOLN 


89 

first inauguration, lay full thirty years of toil, 
self-denial, patience; often of effort baffled, of 
hope deferred; sometimes of bitter disappoint- 
ment. Even with the natural gift of great ge- 
nius, it required an average lifetime and faithful, 
unrelaxing effort to transform the raw country 
stripling into a fit ruler for this great nation. 

Almost every success was balanced— sometimes 
overbalanced — by a seeming failure. He went 
into the Black Hawk war a captain, and through 
no fault of his own came out a private. He rode 
to the hostile frontier on horseback, and trudged 
home on foot. His store “winked out.” His 
surveyor’s compass and chain, with which he was 
earning a scanty living, were sold for debt. He 
was defeated in his first attempts to be nomi- 
nated for the legislature and for Congress; de- 
feated in his application to be appointed Commis- 
sioner of the General Land Office; defeated for 
the Senate, when he had forty-five votes to begin 
with, by a man who had only five votes to begin 
with; defeated again after his joint debates with 
Douglas; defeated in the nomination for Vice- 
President, when a favorable nod from half a 
dozen politicians would have brought him success. 

Failures? Not so. Every seeming defeat was 


90 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


a slow success. His was the growth of the oak, 
and not of Jonah’s gourd. He could not become 
a master workman until he had served a tedious 
apprenticeship. It was the quarter of a century 
of reading, thinking, speech-making, and law- 
making which fitted him to be the chosen cham- 
pion in the great Lincoln-Douglas debates of 
1858. It was the great moral victory won in 
those debates (although the senatorship went to 
Douglas), added to the title “Honest Old Abe,” 
won by truth and manhood among his neighbors 
during a whole lifetime, that led the people of the 
United States to trust him with the duties and 
powers of President. 

And when, at last, after thirty years of en- 
deavor, success had beaten down defeat, when 
Lincoln had been nominated, elected, and inau- 
gurated, came the crowning trial of his faith 
and constancy. When the people, by free and 
lawful choice, had placed honor and power in 
his hands, when his name could convene Con- 
gress, approve laws, cause ships to sail and 
armies to move, there suddenly came upon the 
government and the nation a fatal paralysis. 
Honor seemed to dwindle and power to vanish. 
Was he then, after all, not to be President? Was 


HOUSE IN WHICH LINCOLN LIVED WHEN HE WAS ELECTED PRESIDENT 








92 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


patriotism dead? Was the Constitution only a 
bit of waste paper? Was the Union gone? 

The outlook was indeed grave. There was 
treason in Congress, treason in the Supreme 
Court, treason in the army and navy. Confusion 
and discord were everywhere. To use Mr. Lin- 
coln’s forcible figure of speech, sinners were call- 
ing the righteous to repentance. Finally the flag, 
insulted and fired upon, trailed in surrender at 
Sumter; and then came the humiliation of the 
riot at Baltimore, and the President for a few 
days practically a prisoner in the capital of the 
nation. 

But his apprenticeship had been served, and 
there was to be no more failure. With faith and 
justice and generosity he conducted for four long 
years a war whose frontiers stretched from the 
Potomac to the Rio Grande ; whose soldiers 
numbered a million men on each side. The labor, 
the thought, the responsibility, the strain of mind 
and anguish of soul that he gave to his great task, 
who can measure? “ Here was place for no holi- 
day magistrate, no fair-weather sailor,” as Em- 
erson justly said of him. “The new pilot was 
hurried to the helm in a tornado. In four years 
—four years of battle days— his endurance, his 







PRESIDENT LINCOLN AND TAD 



( 


















ABRAHAM LINCOLN 


95 


fertility of resources, his magnanimity, were 
sorely tried and never found wanting.” “ By 
his courage, his justice, his even temper, ... his 



humanity, he stood a heroic figure in a heroic 
epoch.” 

What but a lifetime’s schooling in disappoint- 
ment; what but the pioneer’s self-reliance and 



OUR HOLIDAYS 


96 

freedom from prejudice; what but the clear mind 
quick to see natural right and unswerving in 
its purpose to follow it ; what but the steady self- 
control, the unwarped sympathy, the unbounded 
charity of this man with spirit so humble and soul 
so great, could have carried him through the la- 
bors he wrought to the victory he attained ? 

With truth it could be written, “ His heart was 
as great as the world, but there was no room in 
it to hold the memory of a wrong.” So, “ with 
malice toward none, with charity for all, with 
firmness in the right as God gave him to see the 
right,” he lived and died. We, who have never 
seen him, yet feel daily the influence of his kindly 
life, and cherish among our most precious pos- 
sessions the heritage of his example. 






\ 


) 











STATUE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. BY AUGUSTUS ST. GAUDENS 




THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS 


F OURSCORE and seven years ago our fa- 
thers brought forth on this continent a new 
nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the 
proposition that all men are created equal. 

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, test- 
ing whether that nation, or any nation so con- 
ceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We 
are met on a great battle-field of that war. We 
have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a 
final resting-place for those who here gave their 
lives that that nation might live. It is altogether 
fitting and proper that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate— we 
cannot consecrate— we cannot hallow this ground. 
The brave men, living and dead, who struggled 
here, have consecrated it far above our poor 
power to add or detract. The world will little 
note, nor long remember what we say here, but it 
can never forget what they did here. It is for us, 
the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the un- 

99 


IOO 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


finished work which they who fought here have 
thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us 
to be here dedicated to the great task remaining 
before us— that from these honored dead we take 
increased devotion to that cause for which they 
gave the last full measure of devotion; that we 
here highly resolve that these dead shall not have 
died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall 
have a new birth of freedom; and that govern- 
ment of the people, by the people, for the people, 
shall not perish from the earth. 


O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 

O captain. My captain. Our fearful trip is done; 

The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought 
is won; 

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, 

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and 
daring : 

But O heart ! Heart ! Heart ! 

Leave you not the little spot, 

Where on the deck my captain lies, 

Fallen cold and dead. 

O captain. My captain. Rise up and hear the bells ; 

Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle 
trills ; 

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths— for you the 
shores a-crowding; 

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces 
turning ; 

O captain. Dear father. 

This arm I push beneath you ; 

It is some dream that on the deck, 

You ’ve fallen cold and dead. 


IOI 


102 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still ; 

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor 
will; 

But the ship, the ship is anchor’d safe, its voyage closed 
and done ; 

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object 
won: 

Exult O shores, and ring, O bells. 

But I with silent tread, 

Walk the spot the captain lies, 

Fallen cold and dead. 


Walt Whitman. 


St. Valentine’s Day 

February 14 


Custom decrees that on this day the young shall 
exchange missives in which the love of the 
sender is told in verses, pictures, and senti- 
ments. No reason beyond a guess can be given 
to connect St. Valentine with these customs. 
He was a Christian martyr, about 270 a.d., 
while the practice of sending valentines had 
its origin in the heathen worship of Juno. 
It is Cupid’s day, and no boy or girl needs 
any encouragement to make the most of it. 



WHO BEGAN IT? 


BY OLIVE THORNE 

T HERE 'S one thing we know positively, that 
St. Valentine did n't begin this fourteenth 
of February excitement; but who did is a ques- 
tion not so easy to answer. I don't think any one 
would have begun it if he could have known what 
the simple customs of his day would have grown 
into, or could even have imagined the frightful 
valentines that disgrace our shops to-day. 

It began, for us, with our English ancestors, 
who used to assemble on the eve of St. Valentine's 
day, put the names of all the young maidens pro- 
miscuously in a box, and let each bachelor draw 
one out. The damsel whose name fell to his lot 
became his valentine for the year. He wore her 
name in his bosom or on his sleeve, and it was his 
duty to attend her and protect her. As late as 
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries this custom 
was very popular, even among the upper classes. 
But the wiseacres have traced the custom 


105 


io6 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


farther back. Some of them think it was begun 
by the ancient Romans, who had on the fourteenth 
or fifteenth of February a festival in honor of 
Lupercus, “the destroyer of wolves ” — a wolf- 
destroyer being quite worthy of honor in those 
wild days, let me tell you. At this festival it was 
the custom, among other curious things, to pair 
off the young men and maidens in the same chance 
way, and with the same result of a year’s atten- 
tions. 

Even this is not wholly satisfactory. Who be- 
gan it among the Romans ? becomes the next in- 
teresting question. One old writer says it was 
brought to Rome from Arcadia sixty years before 
the Trojan war (which Homer wrote about, you 
know). I ’m sure that *s far enough back to 
satisfy anybody. The same writer also says that 
the Pope tried to abolish it in the fifth century, but 
he succeeded only in sending it down to us in the 
name of St. Valentine instead of Lupercus. 

Our own ancestry in England and Scotland 
have observed some very funny customs within 
the last three centuries. At one time valentines 
were fashionable among the nobility, and, while 
still selected by lot, it became the duty of a gentle- 
man to give to the lady who fell to his lot a hand- 



108 OUR HOLIDAYS 

some present. Pieces of jewelry costing thou- 
sands of dollars were not unusual, though smaller 
things, as gloves, were more common. 

There was a tradition among the country peo- 
ple that every bird chose its mate on Valentine’s 
day; and at one time it was the custom for young 
folks to go out before daylight on that morning 
and try to catch an owl and two sparrows in a net. 
If they succeeded, it was a good omen, and en- 
titled them to gifts from the villagers. Another 
fashion among them was to write the valentine, 
tie it to an apple or orange, and steal up to the 
house of the chosen one in the evening, open the 
door quietly, and throw it in. 

Those were the days of charms, and of course 
the rural maidens had a sure and infallible charm 
foretelling the future husband. On the eve of St. 
Valentine’s day, the anxious damsel prepared for 
sleep by pinning to her pillow five bay leaves, one 
at each corner and one in the middle (which must 
have been delightful to sleep on, by the way). If 
she dreamed of her sweetheart, she was sure to 
marry him before the end of the year. 

But to make it a sure thing, the candidate for 
matrimony must boil an egg hard, take out the 
yolk, and fill its place with salt. Just before 


ST. VALENTINE’S DAY 


109 


going to bed, she must eat egg, salt, shell and all, 
and neither speak nor drink after it. If that 
would n't insure her a vivid dream, there surely 
could be no virtue in charms. 

Modern valentines, aside from the valuable 
presents often contained in them, are very pretty 
things, and they are growing prettier every year, 
since large business houses spare neither skill nor 
money in getting them up. The most interesting 
thing about them, to “grown-ups," is the way 
they are made ; and perhaps even you youngsters, 
who watch eagerly for the postman, “ sinking be- 
neath the load of delicate embarrassments not his 
own," would like to know how satin and lace and 
flowers and other dainty things grew into a valen- 
tine. 

It was no fairy's handiwork. It went through 
the hands of grimy-looking workmen before it 
reached your hands. 

To be sure, a dreamy artist may have designed 
it, but a lithographer, with inky fingers, printed 
the picture part of it; a die-cutter, with sleeves 
rolled up, made a pattern in steel of the lace-work 
on the edge ; and a dingy-looking pressman, with 
a paper hat on, stamped the pattern around the 
picture. Another hard-handed workman rubbed 


I 10 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


the back of the stamped lace with sand-paper till 
it came in holes and looked like lace, and not 
merely like stamped paper ; and a row of girls at 
a common long table put on the colors with sten- 
cils, gummed on the hearts and darts and cupids 
and flowers, and otherwise finished the thing ex- 
actly like the pattern before them. 

You see, the sentiment about a valentine 
does n’t begin until Tom, Dick, or Harry takes 
it from the stationer, and writes your name on it. 



st. valentine’s letter-carriers 


Washington’s Birthday 

February 22 

GEORGE WASHINGTON 
Born February 22, 1732 Died December 14, 1799 


Washington was the first President of the 
United States, and the son of a Virginia 
planter. He attended school until about six 
teen years of age, was engaged in surveying, 
1748—51, became an officer in the Continental 
army, and President in 1789. He was re- 
elected in 1793. He was preeminent for his 
sound judgment and perfect self-control. It is 
said that no act of his public life can be traced 
to personal caprice, ambition, or resentment. 


THE BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON 

BY HORACE E. SCUDDER 

I T was near the shore of the Potomac River, be- 
tween Pope's Creek and Bridge's Creek, that 
Augustine Washington lived when his son George 
was born. The land had been in the family ever 
since Augustine's grandfather, John Washington, 
had bought it, when he came over from England 
in 1657. John Washington was a soldier and a 
public-spirited man, and so the parish in which 
he lived — for Virginia was divided into parishes 
as some other colonies into townships — was 
named Washington. It is a quiet neighborhood; 
not a sign remains of the old house, and the only 
mark of the place is a stone slab, broken and over- 
grown with weeds and brambles, which lies on a 
bed of bricks taken from the remnants of the old 
chimney of the house. It bears the inscription : 

Here 

The nth of February, 1732 (old style) 
George Wafhington 
was born 


7 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


114 

The English had lately agreed to use the calen- 
dar of Pope Gregory, which added eleven days to 
the reckoning, but people still used the old style 
as well as the new. By the new style, the birth- 
day was February 22, and that is the day which is 
now observed. The family into which the child 



was born consisted of the father and mother, Au- 
gustine and Mary Washington, and two boys, 
Lawrence and Augustine. These were sons of 
Augustine Washington and a former wife who 


THE BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON 115 

had died four years before. George Washington 
was the eldest of the children of Augustine and 
Mary Washington; he had afterward three bro- 
thers and two sisters, but one of the sisters died 
in infancy. 

It was not long after George Washington’s 
birth that the house in which he was born was 
burned, and as his father was at the time espe- 
cially interested in some iron-works at a distance, 
it was determined not to rebuild upon the lonely 
place. Accordingly Augustine Washington re- 
moved his family to a place which he owned in 
Stafford County, on the banks of the Rappahan- 
nock River opposite Fredericksburg. The house 
is not now standing, but a picture was made of it 
before it was destroyed. It was, like many Vir- 
ginia houses of the day, divided into four rooms 
on a floor, and had great outside chimneys at 
either end. 

Here George Washington spent his childhood. 
He learned to read, write, and cipher at a small 
school kept by Hobby, the sexton of the parish 
church. Among his playmates was Richard 
Henry Lee, who was afterward a famous Vir- 
ginian. When the boys grew up, they wrote to 
each other of grave matters of war and state, but 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


1 1 6 

here is the beginning of their correspondence, 
written when they were nine years old. 

“ Richard Henry Lee to George Washington : 

“ Pa brought me two pretty books full of pictures he 
got them in Alexandria they have pictures of dogs and 
cats and tigers and elefants and ever so many pretty 
things cousin bids me send you one of them it has a 
picture of an elefant and a little Indian boy on his back 
like uncle jo ’s sam pa says if I learn my tasks good he 
will let uncle jo bring me to see you will you ask your 
ma to let you come to see me. 

“ Richard henry Lee.” 

“ George Washington to Richard Henry Lee: 

“ Dear Dickey I thank you very much for the 
pretty picture book you gave me. Sam asked me to 
show him the pictures and I showed him all the pictures 
in it ; and I read to him how the tame elephant took care 
of the master’s little boy, and put him on his back and 
would not let anybody touch his master’s little son. I 
can read three or four pages sometimes without missing 
a word. Ma says I may go to see you, and stay all 
day with you next week if it be not rainy. She says 
I may ride my pony Hero if Uncle Ben will go with 
me and lead Hero. I have a little piece of poetry about 
the picture book you gave me, but I must n’t tell you 
who wrote the poetry. 

“ ‘ G. W.’s compliments to R. H. L., 

And likes his book full well, 


THE BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON 1 17 

Henceforth will count him his friend, 

And hopes many happy days he may spend/ 
“Your good friend, 

“George Washington. 

“ I am going to get a whip top soon, 
and you may see it and whip it.” 1 

It looks very much as if Richard 
Henry sent his letter off just as 
it was written. I suspect that his 
correspondent’s letter was looked 
over, corrected, and copied before 
it was sent. Very possibly Au- 
gustine Washington was absent 
at the time on one of his journeys ; 
but at any rate the boy owed most 
of his training to his mother, for 
only two years after this, his fa- 
ther died, and he was left to 
mother’s care. 

She was a woman 
born to command, and 
sinceshe was left alone 
with a family and an 
estate to care for, she 
took the reins into her own hands, and never gave 
them up to any one else. She used to drive about 



MONUMENT ON THE SITE OF GEORGE 

Washington’s birthplace 


iFrom B. J. Lossing’s “ The Home of Washington. ” 


1 1 8 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


in an old-fashioned open chaise, visiting the 
various parts of her farm, just as a planter would 
do on horseback. The story is told that she had 
given an agent directions how to do a piece of 
work, and he had seen fit to do it differently, be- 
cause he thought his way a better one. He 
showed her the improvement. 

“ And pray,” said the lady, “ who gave you any 
exercise of judgment in the matter? I command 
you, sir ; there is nothing left for you but to obey.” 

In those days, more than now, a boy used very 
formal language when addressing his mother. 
He might love her warmly, but he was expected to 
treat her with a great show of respect. When 
Washington wrote to his mother, even after he 
was of age, he began his letter, “ Honored 
Madam,” and signed it, “Your dutiful son.” 
This was a part of the manners of the time. It 
was like the stiff dress which men wore when they 
paid their respects to others; it was put on for 
the occasion, and one would have been thought 
very unmannerly who did not make a marked dif- 
ference between his every-day dress and that 
which he wore when he went into the presence of 
his betters. So Washington, when he wrote to 
his mother, would not say, “ Dear Mother.” 


THE BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON 119 

Suc4i habits as this go deeper than mere forms 
of speech. I do not suppose that the sons of this 
lady feared her, but they stood in awe of her, 
which is quite a different thing. 

“We were all as mute as mice, when in her 
presence/' says one of Washington's companions; 
and common report makes her to have been very 
much such a woman as her son afterward was a 
man. 

I think that George Washington owed two 
strong traits to his mother, — a governing spirit, 
and a spirit of order and method. She taught 
him many lessons and gave him many rules ; but, 
after all, it was her character shaping his which 
was most powerful. She taught him to be truth- 
ful, but her lessons were not half so forcible as 
her own truthfulness. 

There is a story told of George Washington's 
boyhood— unfortunately there are not many 
stories — which is to the point. His father had 
taken a great deal of pride in his blooded horses, 
and his mother afterward took great pains to keep 
the stock pure. She had several young horses 
that had not yet been broken, and one of them in 
particular, a sorrel, was extremely spirited. No 
one had been able to do anything with it, and it 


120 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


was pronounced thoroughly vicious, as people are 
apt to pronounce horses which they have not 
learned to master. George was determined to 
ride this colt, and told his companions that if they 
would help him catch it, he would ride and tame it. 



OLD WHITE CHAPEL, LANCASTER COUNTY, VIRGINIA, WHERE 
WASHINGTON AND HIS MOTHER ATTENDED SERVICE 


Early in the morning they set out for the pas- 
ture, where the boys managed to surround the 
sorrel and then to put a bit into its mouth. Wash- 
ington sprang on its back, the boys dropped the 
bridle, and away flew the angry animal. Its rider 
at once began to command; the horse resisted, 
backing about the field, rearing and plunging. 
The boys became thoroughly alarmed, but Wash- 


THE BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON 121 


ington kept his seat, never once losing his self- 
control or his mastery of the colt. The struggle 
was a sharp one ; when suddenly, as if determined 
to rid itself of its rider, the creature leaped into 
the air with a tremendous bound. It was its last. 
The violence burst a blood-vessel, and the noble 
horse fell dead. 

Before the boys could sufficiently recover to 
consider how they should extricate themselves 
from the scrape, they were called to breakfast; 
and the mistress of the house, knowing that they 
had been in the fields, began to ask after her stock. 

“ Pray, young gentlemen,” said she, “ have you 
seen my blooded colts in your rambles? I hope 
they are well taken care of. My favorite, I am 
told, is as large as his sire.” 

The boys looked at one another, and no one 
liked to speak. Of course the mother repeated 
her question. 

“The sorrel is dead, madam,” said her son. 
“I killed him!” 

And then he told the whole story. They say 
that his mother flushed with anger, as her son 
often used to, and then, like him, controlled her- 
self, and presently said, quietly : 

“ It is well ; but while I regret the loss of my 


122 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


favorite, I rejoice in my son who always speaks 
the truth.” 

The story of Washington’s killing the blooded 
colt is of a piece with other stories less particular, 
which show that he was a very athletic fellow. 
Of course, when a boy becomes famous, every one 
likes to remember the wonderful things he did be- 
fore he was famous, and Washington’s playmates, 
when they grew up, used to show the spot by the 
Rappahannock near Fredericksburg where he 
stood and threw a stone to the opposite bank ; and 
at the celebrated Natural Bridge, the arch of 
which is two hundred feet above the ground, they 
always tell the visitor that George Washington 
threw a stone in the air the whole height. He un- 
doubtedly took part in all the sports which were 
the favorites of his country at that time — he 
pitched heavy bars, tossed quoits, ran, leaped, and 
wrestled; for he was a powerful, large-limbed 
young fellow, and he had a very large and strong 
hand. 

From "Life of George Washington” by Horace E. Scudder, published by 
Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 

The illustrations in this story are copied from the original pictures in Mr. B. J. 
Lossing’s “ Mt. Vernon and its Associations,” by permission of Messrs. J. C. 
Yorston & Co., Cincinnati, Ohio. 


Longfellow’s Birthday 

February 27 

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 
Born February 27, 1807 Died March 24, 1882 


Longfellow graduated at Bowdoin College 
in 1825; traveled in Europe in 1826; was 
professor at Bowdoin in 1829-35 5 again visited 
Europe 1835-36; and was professor at Har- 
vard College 1836-54. He continued to reside 
at Cambridge. He is best known and loved 
for his poems, though he wrote three novels. 


LONGFELLOW AND THE CHILDREN 


BY LUCY LARCOM 



HE poets who love children are the poets 


X whom children love. It is natural that they 
should care much for each other, because both 
children and poets look into things in the same 
way,— simply, with open eyes and hearts, seeing 
Nature as it is, and finding whatever is lovable 
and pure in the people who surround them, as 
flowers may receive back from flowers sweet 
odors for those which they have given. The little 
child is born with a poet's heart in him, and the 
poet has been fitly called “ the eternal child." 

Not that all children or all poets are alike in 
this. But of Longfellow we think as of one who 
has always been fresh and natural in his sym- 
pathy for children, one who has loved them as 
they have loved him. 

We wish he had given us more of the memories 
of his own childhood. One vivid picture of it 
comes to us in “ My Lost Youth," a poem which 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


i 26 

shows us how everything he saw when a child 
must have left within him a life-long impression. 
That boyhood by the sea must have been full of 
dreams as well as of pictures. The beautiful bay 
with its green islands, widening out to the At- 
lantic on the east, and the dim chain of mountains, 
the highest in New England, lying far away on 
the northwestern horizon, give his native city a 
roomy feeling not often experienced in the streets 
of a town; and the boy-poet must have felt his 
imagination taking wings there, for many a long 
flight. So he more than hints to us in his song : 

“ I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, 

And catch, in sudden gleams, 

The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, 

And islands that were the Hesperides 
Of all my boyish dreams. 

And the burden of that old song, 

It murmurs and whispers still : 

‘ A boy’s will is the wind’s will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.’ 

“ I remember the black wharves and the slips, 
And the sea-tides tossing free; 

And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 

And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 

And the magic of the sea. 

And the voice of that wayward song 


LONGFELLOW AND THE CHILDREN 127 

Is singing and saying still : 

‘ A boy’s will is the wind’s will, 

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. ’ ” 

Longfellow’s earliest volume, “The Voices of 
the Night,” was one of the few books of American 
poetry that some of us who are now growing old 
ourselves can remember reading, just as we were 
emerging from childhood. “ The Reaper and the 
Flowers” and the “Psalm of Life,”— I recall the 
delight with which I used to repeat those poems. 
The latter, so full of suggestions which a very 
young person could feel, but only half understand, 
was for that very reason the more fascinating. It 
seemed to give glimpses, through opening doors, 
of that wonderful new world of mankind, where 
children are always longing to wander freely as 
men and women. Looking forward and aspiring 
are among the first occupations of an imagina- 
tive child; and the school-boy who declaimed the 
words : 

“ Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime,” 

and the school-girl who read them quietly by her- 
self, felt them, perhaps, no less keenly than the 
man of thought and experience. 


128 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


Longfellow has said that— 

“ Sublimity always is simple 
Both in sermon and song, a child can seize on its mean- 
ing, 1 ” 

and the simplicity of his poetry is the reason why 
children and young people have always loved it; 
the reason, also, why it has been enjoyed by men 
and women and children all over the world. 

One of his poems which has been the delight of 
children and grown people alike is the “ Village 
Blacksmith,” the first half of which is a descrip- 
tion that many a boy might feel as if he could 
have written himself— if he only had the poet’s 
command of words and rhymes, and the poet’s 
genius! Is not this one of the proofs of a good 
poem, that it haunts us until it seems as if it had 
almost grown out of our own mind ? How life-like 
the picture is!— 

“And children coming home from school 
Look in at the open door ; 

They love to see the flaming forge, 

And hear the bellows roar, 

And catch the burning sparks that fly 
Like chaff from a threshing-floor. ,, 

No wonder the Cambridge children, when the old 
chestnut-tree that overhung the smithy was cut 


LONGFELLOW AND THE CHILDREN 129 

down, had a memento shaped into a chair from its 
boughs, to present to him who had made it an 
immortal tree in his verse! It bore flower and 
fruit for them a second time in his acknowledg- 
ment of the gift ; for he told them how— 

“ There, by the blacksmith's forge, beside the street 
Its blossoms, white and sweet, 

Enticed the bees, until it seemed alive, 

And murmured like a hive. 

“ And when the wind of autumn, with a shout 
Tossed its great arms about, 

The shining chestnuts, bursting from the sheath, 
Dropped to the ground beneath." 

In its own wild, winsome way, the song of 
“ Hiawatha’s Childhood” is one of the prettiest 
fancies in poetry. It is a dream of babyhood in 
the “ forest primeval,” with Nature for nurse and 
teacher; and it makes us feel as if— were the 
poet's idea only a possibility— it might have been 
very pleasant to be a savage baby, although we 
consider it so much better to be civilized. 

How Longfellow loved the very little ones can 
be seen in such verses as the “ Hanging of the 
Crane,” and in those earlier lines “To a Child,” 

where the baby on his mother's knee gazes at the 

8 


130 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


painted tiles, shakes his “coral rattle with the 
silver bells,” or escapes through the open door 
into the old halls where once 

“ The Father of his country dwelt.” 

Those verses give us a charming glimpse of the 
home-life in the historic mansion which is now so 
rich with poetic, as well as patriotic associations. 

How beautiful it was to be let in to that twilight 
library scene described in the “ Children’s Hour ” : 

“ A sudden rush from the stair-way, 

A sudden raid from the hall ! 

By three doors left unguarded, 

They enter my castle wall ! 

“ They climb up into my turret, 

O’er the arms and back of my chair ; 

If I try to escape, they surround me; 

They seem to be everywhere.” 

Afterward, when sorrow and loss had come to 
the happy home, in the sudden removal of the 
mother of those merry children, the father who 
loved them so had a sadder song for them, as he 
looked onward into their orphaned lives : 

“ O little feet, that such long years 
Must wander on, through hopes and fears, 


LONGFELLOW’S HOUSE — ONCE WASHINGTON’S HEADQUARTERS AT CAMBRIDGE 




























LONGFELLOW AND THE CHILDREN 133 

Must ache and bleed beneath your load, 

I, nearer to the wayside inn, 

Where toil shall cease, and rest begin, 

Am weary, thinking of your road ! ” 

Longfellow loved all children, and had a word 
for them whenever he met them. 

At a concert, going early with her father, a 
little girl espied Mr. Longfellow sitting alone, and 
begged that she might go and speak to him. Her 
father, himself a stranger, took the liberty of in- 
troducing his little daughter Edith to the poet. 

“ Edith ?” said Mr. Longfellow, tenderly. 
“ Ah ! I have an Edith, too ; but my baby Edith 
is twenty years old.” And he seated the child be- 
side him, taking her hand in his, and making her 
promise to come and see him at his house in Cam- 
bridge. 

“What is the name of your sled, my boy?” he 
said to a small lad, who came tugging one up the 
road toward him, on a winter morning. 

“ It ’s ‘ Evan geline/ Mr. Longfellow wrote 
‘Evangeline.’ Did you ever see Mr. Longfel- 
low?” answered the little fellow, as he ran by, 
doubtless wondering at the smile on the face of 
the pleasant gray-haired gentleman. 

Professor Monti, who witnessed the pretty 


134 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


scene, tells the story of a little girl who one 
Christmas inquired the way to the poet’s house, 
and asked if she could just step inside the yard; 
and he relates how Mr. Longfellow, being told 
she was there, went to the door and called her in, 
and showed her the “ old clock on the stairs,” and 
many other interesting things about the house, 
leaving his little guest with beautiful memories of 
that Christmas day to carry all through her life. 
This was characteristic of the poet’s hospitality, 
delicate and courteous and thoughtful to all who 
crossed his threshold. Many a trembling young 
girl, frightened at her own boldness in having 
ventured into his presence, was set at ease by her 
host in the most genial way; he would make her 
forget herself in the interesting mementos all 
about her, devoting himself to her entertainment 
as if it were the one pleasure of the hour for him 
to do so. 

It is often said, and with reason, that we Ameri- 
cans do not think enough of manners — that 
politeness of behavior which comes from genuine 
sympathy and a delicate perception of others’ 
feelings. Certainly our young people might look 
to Mr. Longfellow as a model in this respect. He 
was a perfect gentleman, in the best sense of that 







U 










LONGFELLOW AND THE CHILDREN 137 

term, always considerate, and quick to see where 
he might do a kindness, or say a pleasant word. 

The celebration of Longfellow’s seventy-fifth 
birthday by school-children all over the country 
is something that those children must be glad to 
think of now— glad to remember that the poet 
knew how much they cared for him and for what 
he had written. Even the blind children, who 
have to read with their fingers, were enjoying his 
songs with the rest. How pleasant that must 
have been to him! Certainly, as it seems to me, 
the best tribute that the young people of the coun- 
try can pay to his memory is to become more fa- 
miliar with his poems. 

We should not wait until a great and good man 
has left us before giving him honor, or trying to 
understand what he has done for us. A dreary 
world ours would be, if there were no poets’ songs 
echoing through it ; and we may be proud of our 
country that it has a poetry of its own, which it is 
for us to know and possess for ourselves. 

Longfellow has said : 

“ What the leaves are to the forest 
With light and air and food. 

Ere their sweet and tender juices 
Have been hardened into wood, 

That to the world, are children” : 


138 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


and something like this we may say of his songs. 
There is in all true poetry a freshness of life 
which makes the writer of it immortal. 

The singer so much beloved has passed from 
sight, but the music of his voice is in the air, and, 
listening to it, we know that he can not die. 



“Somewhat 
back from 
the village 
street 

Stands the old-fash- 
ioned country-seat. 

Across its antique 
portico 

Tall poplar-trees their 
shadows throw ; 

And from its station in 
the hall 

An ancient timepiece says to 
all,— 

* Forever — never ! 

Never— forever!’ ” 


Inauguration Day 


March 4 


The date was settled by the old Congress of the 
Confederation in 1788, when the procedure was 
established for the election of a President. It 
was decreed that the Electoral College should 
meet on the first Wednesday of January, the 
votes be counted by the House of Representa- 
tives on the first Wednesday of February, and 
the President be inaugurated on the first Wed- 
nesday of March. This March date was the 
4th. March 4 has been Inauguration Day ever 
since. 


HOW A PRESIDENT IS INAUGURATED 


BY CLIFFORD HOWARD 

AS you will remember, Thomas Jefferson was 
il the first President of our country to be in- 
augurated at Washington. This took place in 
the year 1801, when our national capital was not 
much more than a year old ; and you may imagine 
that the city was a very different-looking place 
from what it is to-day. 

But now instead of a straggling town with a 
few muddy streets and about three thousand 
inhabitants, Jefferson would find our national 
capital one of the most beautiful cities on the 
face of the earth, with a population of nearly 
three hundred thousand; and on March 4 he 
would behold a scene such as he never dreamed 
of. Thousands of flags fly from the house-tops 
and windows, bright-colored bunting in beautiful 
designs adorns the great public buildings, all the 
stores and business houses are gaily decorated 


142 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


with flags and streamers, and everything presents 
the appearance of a great and glorious holiday, 
while the streets swarm with the hundreds of 
thousands of people who have come to the city 
from all parts of the country to take part in the 
grand celebration. 

Everybody is moving toward Pennsylvania 
Avenue, where the parade is to march. No, not 
everybody: some fifty or sixty thousand make 
their way to the Capitol, so as to get a glimpse of 
the inauguration exercises that take place on the 
east portico; and although the ceremonies will 
not begin until nearly one o’clock, the great space 
in front of the Capitol is packed with people three 
hours before that time, some of them having come 
as early as eight o’clock in the morning to be sure 
of getting a good view. 

Early in the morning Pennsylvania Avenue is 
cleared of all street-cars, carriages, and bicycles, 
and no one is allowed to step off the sidewalk. 
A strong wire rope is stretched along each side 
of the avenue, so as to prevent people from get- 
ting into the street. 

Soon every window and balcony along the line 
is crowded with spectators. Even the roofs are 
black with people, and small boys may be seen 


HOW A PRESIDENT IS INAUGURATED 143 

perched among the branches of the trees, or hang- 
ing on to the electric-light poles. For a distance 
of nearly three miles, on each side of the street, 
people are packed so closely together that it is al- 
most impossible for them to move. In every park 
and open space along the line large wooden stands 
have been erected; and these, too, are filled with 
those who are willing to pay for seats. 

As the time for the morning parade draws 
near, the crowds become restless with eagerness 
and excitement. Policemen on horseback dash 
up and down the avenue to see that the road is 
clear, and every now and then a trooper or mes- 
senger in bright uniform gallops past. Suddenly 
the boom of a cannon is heard. The next moment 
there comes the distant roll of drums, and then, 
amid the inspiring music of brass bands and tre- 
mendous cheering, the procession appears mov- 
ing slowly down the avenue on its way to the 
Capitol. Riding ahead is a squad of mounted 
police— big, brawny fellows, with glittering brass 
buttons. After them come the United States 
troops and naval forces, armed with their rifles 
and sabers that flash in the sunlight, and march- 
ing to the music of the famous Marine Band, 
while rumbling over the hard, smooth pavement 


144 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


of the avenue come the big cannons drawn by 
powerful horses. Then appears the chief mar- 
shal of the parade on his spirited horse, heading 
the body-guard of soldiers that surround the open 
carriage containing the President and the Presi- 
dent-elect, sitting side by side. As the carriage, 
which is drawn by four handsome horses, rolls 
slowly along with its distinguished occupants, 
men and boys shout and cheer at the top of their 
lungs, and throw their hats into the air when 
their voices give out, while the women and girls 
wave their handkerchiefs and hurrah with the 
rest of the crowd. With hat in hand, the Presi- 
dent-elect smiles and bows to the right and the 
left ; and with the bands playing and people cheer- 
ing, handkerchiefs fluttering and flags flying, he 
arrives at the Capitol a few minutes before noon. 
Here he meets with another rousing reception 
from the great mass of people who have been 
waiting for him for two or three hours; and it 
requires all the efforts of a small army of police to 
open the way for him and his party to pass into 
the Capitol. 

The House of Representatives is about to ad- 
journ, and many of its members have already 
come over to the Senate to witness the closing ex- 



GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON ON THE WAY TO HIS INAUGURATION 




HOW A PRESIDENT IS INAUGURATED 147 

ercises there. Extra chairs and seats have been 
brought in for them and the many other promi- 
nent officials who also have gathered there, in- 
cluding the officers of the army and the navy, the 
justices of the Supreme Court, the cabinet officers, 
and the foreign ambassadors and ministers, many 
of whom are dressed in their gorgeous state robes. 
According to law, Congress must come to an end 
at noon; but if the presidential party has not 
made its appearance when the Senate clock is 
about to point to twelve, the hands are moved back 
a few minutes so as to gain time. And before the 
hands are allowed to get around to twelve, every- 
body has arrived, everything is in readiness, and 
the President of the Senate has administered the 
oath of office to his successor, the new Vice-Presi- 
dent of the United States, who at once calls an 
extra session of the Senate, so that not a moment 
elapses between the death of one session and the 
birth of another. Then, after a short prayer by 
the chaplain and a brief address by the Vice- 
President, the distinguished people gathered in 
the Senate form in line, and, headed by a company 
of newspaper reporters, they march in dignified 
procession to the rotunda, and thence to the plat- 
form on the east front of the Capitol. 


48 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


The nine justices of the Supreme Court, 
clothed in their black robes, walk out on the plat- 
form first, followed by the President-elect. As 
soon as the crowd catches sight of him, a deafen- 
ing shout breaks forth from fifty thousand 
throats, and, amid the enthusiastic uproar that 
lasts several minutes, hats and canes, umbrellas 
and handkerchiefs, are waved aloft or thrown 
wildly into the air by joyous and patriotic Ameri- 
cans. Removing his hat, the President-elect 
comes forward, and, turning to the Chief Justice 
of the United States, takes the oath of office as re- 
quired by the Constitution. Then comes the in- 
augural address, which, of course, only those near 
the platform are able to hear. But the thirty or 
forty thousand who can’t hear the speech are will- 
ing to agree with everything that is said, and 
every little while they shout and cheer and ap- 
plaud. 

All this time the crowd on the avenue has been 
patiently waiting for the return of the President. 
The morning’s procession was nothing more than 
a military escort ; now is to come the great feature 
of the day — the grand inauguration parade. The 
ceremonies at the Capitol are over at half-past 
one, and the new President goes at once to the 




* n 

j l.w»A 

it 

K u 

! : - 

UrMJ. . i 

J v ^ ^TrSE^SI^S 

Jp, JL v-» J - ifS* ! jfl 




*3 ' ^ 33»5BMss£W _ s 

9M»r 


THE INAUGURATION OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD 



HOW A PRESIDENT IS INAUGURATED 151 

White House, greeted with rousing cheers all 
along the way, and prepares to review the great- 
est parade ever seen in the city of Washington. 
All the morning, companies of soldiers, political 
clubs, bands, and drum corps have been preparing 
for the afternoon’s march. There are so many 
thousands who are going to take part in the 
parade that orders have been given requiring all 
companies to march in ranks reaching from curb 
to curb, a distance of one hundred and thirty feet, 
and to follow one another as closely as possible. 

The march is begun a little before two o’clock; 
and, although the people have been standing on 
the sidewalks since early morning, they have 
plenty of enthusiasm left, and they fill the air with 
their shouts and hurrahs as regiment after regi- 
ment of magnificently drilled soldiers and horses 
marches by. 

Even after the electric lamps are lighted, men 
and horses are still tramping along the avenue, 
and people are still shouting and the bands play- 
ing and flags waving. And all this time the Pres- 
ident stands in front of the White House, review- 
ing the marching thousands as they pass along. 

But although the big parade finally comes to an 
end, the festivities are not yet over. Late into 


152 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


the night the city is brilliantly illuminated by 
magnificent and wonderful fireworks and power- 
ful electric search-lights that shine from the tops 
of the tall buildings and light up the great dome 
of the Capitol and the Washington monument. 
Then comes the grand inaugural ball. There 
are over ten thousand people present, and the 
scene is a glorious and wonderful sight. 

It is almost sunrise when the last carriage rolls 
away, and with the closing of the ball the inau- 
guration festivities end. 


Easter Day 

Easter is the Sunday that follows the 14th day of the calendar 
moon, which falls upon or next after the 21st of March. 


This Sunday, when Christian churches cele- 
brate the resurrection of Christ, is one of sol- 
emn rejoicing. Coming after the self-denials 
of Lent and at the beginning of spring, it seems 
naturally a time of hope and new life. It is the 
feast of flowers, particularly of lilies, and the 
name had its origin in a festival in honor of the 
goddess of spring. The esteem in which it is 
held is indicated by its ancient title, “ The great 


A SONG OF EASTER 


BY CELIA THAXTER 

Sing, children, sing! 

And the lily censers swing; 

Sing that life and joy are waking and that Death no 
more is king. 

Sing the happy, happy tumult of the slowly brighten- 
ing Spring; 

Sing, little children, sing ! 

Sing, children, sing! 

Winter wild has taken wing. 

Fill the air with the sweet tidings till the frosty echoes 
ring! 

Along the eaves the icicles no longer glittering cling ; 
And the crocus in the garden lifts its bright face to the 
sun, 

And in the meadows softly the brooks begin to run ; 
And the golden catkins swing 
In the warm airs of the Spring ; 

Sing, little children, sing! 

Sing, children, sing! 

The lilies white you bring 

i55 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


156 

In the joyous Easter morning for hope are blossoming ; 

And as the earth her shroud of snow from off her 
breast doth fling, 

So may we cast our fetters off in God’s eternal Spring. 

So may we -find release at last from sorrow and from 
pain, 

So may we find our childhood’s calm, delicious dawn 
again. 

Sweet are your eyes, O little ones, that look with smil- 
ing grace, 

Without a shade of doubt or fear into the Future’s 
face! 

Sing, sing in happy chorus, with joyful voices tell 

That death is life, and God is good, and all things 
shall be well ; 

That bitter days shall cease 

In warmth and light and peace,— 

That Winter yields to Spring, — 

Sing, little children, sing! 






















































































HE SAT DOWN ON THE STEP, BREATHLESS WITH SURPRISE AND JOY 



THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 


BY TEMPLE BAILEY 



k HE General did not look at all as one would 


JL expect a general to look. He was short and 
thick-set and had a red face and a white mus- 
tache, and he usually dressed in a gray tweed suit, 
with a funny Norfolk jacket with a belt, and wore 
a soft cap pulled down almost to his eye-glasses. 

And he always did his own marketing. 

That is how he came to know Jimmy. 

Jimmy stood at a corner of Old Market and 
sold little bundles of dried sage and sweet mar- 
joram, and sassafras and cinnamon, and soup- 
bunches made of bits of vegetables tied together 
— a bit of parsley and a bit of celery and a bit 
of carrot and a sprig of summer savory, all for 
one cent. Then at Christmas-time he displayed 
wreaths, which he and his little mother made at 
home, and as the spring came on he brought wild 
flowers that he picked in the woods. 


159 


160 OUR HOLIDAYS 

And that was how he came to know the 
General. 

For one morning, just before Easter, the Gen- 
eral came puffing down the outside aisle of Old 
Market, with his colored man behind him with an 
enormous basket. The General's carriage was 
drawn up to the curbstone, and the gray horses 
were dancing little fancy dances over the asphalt 
street, when all at once Jimmy thrust a bunch of 
arbutus under the General’s very nose. 

“ Go away, go away,” said the General, and 
trotted down to the carriage door, which a foot- 
man held open for him. 

But a whiff of fragrance had reached him, and 
he stopped. 

“ How much ? ” he asked. 

“ Three cents,” said Jimmy, in a hoarse voice. 

The General looked at the little fellow through 
his eye-glasses. 

“ Got a cold ? ” he inquired gruffly. 

“ Yes, sir,” croaked Jimmy. 

“Why don’t you stay in the house, then?” 
growled the General. 

“Can’t, sir,” said Jimmy, cheerfully; “busi- 
ness is business.” 

The General looked at the little stand where 


THE GENERAL'S EASTER BOX 161 

“ business ” was transacted— at the little rows of 
dried stuffs, at the small basket of flowers, and at 
the soup-bunches. 

“ Humph,” he said. 

Then his hand went down into his pocket, and 
he pulled out a lot of change. After that he chose 
two bunches of sweet, pinky blossoms. 

“ Two for five, sir,” said Jimmy. 

“ Hum,” said the General. “ You might give 
me some parsley and a soup-bunch.” 

Jimmy wrapped up the green stuff carefully 
and dropped it into the basket carried by the 
colored man. 

“Nine cents, sir,” he said; and the General 
handed him a dime and then moved to the next 
stall, holding the flowers close to his nose. 

“ You forgot your change,” cried Jimmy, and 
rushed after him with the one cent. 

“ Keep— ” But one look at the honest little 
face and he changed his sentence. 

“ Thank you, young man,” he said, and away 
he drove. 

After that Jimmy looked for the General, and 
the General for Jimmy. Their transactions were 
always carried on in a strictly business manner, 
although, to be sure, the General’s modest family 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


162 

of two did not require the unlimited sage and 
sweet marjoram that were ordered from time to 
time. 

On the Saturday before Easter the little stand 
was gay with new wares. In little nests of dried 
grasses lay eggs— Easter eggs, bright pink and 
blue and purple and mottled. Jimmy had in- 
vested in a dozen at forty cents the dozen, and he 
had hopes of doubling the money, for work surely 
counted for something, and he and the Little 
Mother had dyed them. 

But somehow people passed them by. Inside 
of the market there were finer nests, and eggs 
gilded and lettered, and Jimmy began to feel that 
his own precious eggs were very dull indeed. 

But when the General appeared around the 
corner, the boy’s spirits rose. Here, at any rate, 
was a good customer. 

The General, however, was in a temper. 
There had been an argument with the fish-man 
which had left him red in the face and very 
touchy. So he bought two bunches of arbutus 
and nothing else. 

“Any eggs, sir?” asked Jimmy. 

“Eggs?” said the General, looking over the 
little stand. 


THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 163 

“ Easter eggs/' explained Jimmy. 

“ I Ve no use for such things/' said the Gen- 
eral. 

“ Oh ! " said Jimmy, and in spite of himself his 
voice trembled. When one is the man of the fam- 
ily, and the Little Mother is sewing for dear life, 
and her work and the little stand in the market 
are all that pay the rent and buy food, it is some- 
times hard to be brave. But the General did not 
notice the tremble. 

Jimmy tried again: 

“Any children, sir? Children always like 
Easter eggs, you know." 

“No," said the General; “no one but a son in 
the Philippines— a son some six feet two in his 
stockings." 

“ Any grandchildren, sir ? " hopefully. 

“ Bless my soul," said the General, testily, 
“ what a lot of questions ! " And he hurried off to 
his carriage. 

Jimmy felt very forlorn. The General had 
been his last hope. The eggs were a dead loss. 

At last it came time to close up, and he piled 
all of his wares in a basket. Then he took out 
a little broom and began to sweep in an orderly 
way around his little stall. He had a battered 


164 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


old dustpan, and as he carried it out to the street 
to empty it, he saw a stiff greenish-gray paper 
sticking out of the dirt. Nothing in the world 
ever looks exactly like that but an American 
greenback, and, sure enough, when Jimmy pulled 
it out it proved to be a ten-dollar bill. 

Jimmy sat down on the curb suddenly. His 
money always came in pennies and nickels and 
dimes and quarters. The Little Mother some- 
times earned a dollar at a time, but never in 
his whole life had Jimmy possessed a ten-dollar 
bill. 

Think of the possibilities to a little, poor, cold, 
worried boy. There was two months’ rent in 
that ten-dollar bill — two months in which he 
would not have to worry over whether there 
would be a roof over their heads. 

Then there was a basket stall in that ten-dollar 
bill. That had always been his ambition. Some 
one had told him that baskets sold well in other 
cities, and not a single person had opened a 
basket stall in Old Market, and that was Jimmy’s 
chance. Once established, he knew he could earn 
a good living. 

As for ten dollars’ worth of groceries and pro- 
visions, Jimmy’s mind could not grasp such a 


THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 165 

thing; fifty cents had always been the top limit 
for a grocery bill. 

But— it was n't Jimmy's ten dollars. Like a 
flash his dreams tumbled to the ground. There 
had been many people coming and going through 
Old Market, but Jimmy knew that the bill was the 
General's. For the old gentleman had pulled out 
a roll when he reached for the five cents. Yes, it 
was the General's; but how to find the General? 

Inside the market he found the General's 
butcher. Yes, the butcher knew the General's 
address, for he was one of his best customers, 
and would keep Jimmy's basket while the boy 
went to the house. 

It was a long distance. Jimmy passed rows of 
great stone mansions, and went through parks, 
where crocuses and hyacinths were just peeping 
out. 

At last he came to the General's. 

A colored man answered the ring of the bell. 

“ Who shall I say ? " he inquired loftily. “ The 
General is very busy, y' know." 

“Say Jimmy, from the market, please"; and 
Jimmy sat down on the great hall seat, feeling 
very much awed with all the magnificence. 

“Well, well," said the General, as he came 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


1 66 

puffing down the stairs. “Well, well, and what 
do you want ? ” 

“Please, sir, did you drop this?” and Jimmy 
held out the tightly rolled bill. 

“Did I? Well, now, I ’m sure I don’t know. 
Perhaps I did, perhaps I did.” 

“ I found it in front of my stall,” said Jimmy. 

What a strange thing it seemed that the Gen- 
eral should not know ! Jimmy would have known 
if he had lost a penny. He began to feel that 
the General could not have a true idea of business . 

The General took out a roll of bills. “ Let me 
see,” he said. “ Here ’s my market list. Yes, I 
guess that ’s mine, sure enough.” 

“I ’m glad I noticed it,” said Jimmy, simply. 
“ I came near sweeping it into the street.” 

“And what can I pay you for your trouble?” 
asked the General, looking at the boy keenly. 

“Well,” said Jimmy, stoutly, “you see, busi- 
ness is business, and I had to take my time, and 
I ’d like to get back as soon as I can.” 

The General frowned. He was afraid he was 
going to be disappointed in this boy. 

“ And so,” went on Jimmy, “ if you would give 
me a nickel for car-fare, I think we might call it 
square.” 


THEN THE GENERAL, WITH KNIFE UPRAISED, STOPPED IN HIS CARVING OF THE COLD ROAST CHICKEN, 

AND TURNED TO JIMMY ” 






THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 169 

The General fumbled around for his eye- 
glasses, put them on, and looked at Jimmy in as- 
tonishment. 

“ A nickel? ” he asked. 

“Yes, sir” ; Jimmy blushed. “You know I 
ought to get back.” 

“Well, well,” said the General. The boy had 
certainly the instincts of a gentleman. Not a 
single plea of poverty, and yet one could see that 
he was poor, very poor. 

Just then a gong struck softly somewhere. 
“ I 'm not going to let you go until you have a bit 
of lunch with us,” said the General. “ I have 
told my wife of Jimmy of the market, and now I 
want you to meet her.” 

So Jimmy went down into a wonderful dining- 
room, where the silver and the cut glass shone, 
and where at the farther side of the table was the 
sweetest little old lady, who came and shook 
hands with him. 

Jimmy had never before eaten lunch where the 
soup was served in little cups, but the General's 
wife put him at his ease when she told him that 
his very own soup-bunches were in that soup, and 
if he did n't eat plenty of it he would n't be adver- 
tising his wares. Then the General, with knife 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


1 70 

upraised, stopped in his carving of the cold roast 
chicken, and turned to Jimmy with a smile of ap- 
proval in his genial face, and said that it was his 
sage, too, that was in the chicken dressing. 

They made Jimmy talk, and finally he told them 
of his ambition for a basket stall. 

“ And when do you expect to get it? ” asked the 
General, with a smile. 

“When I get the goose that lays the golden 
egg, I am afraid, sir,” said Jimmy, a little sadly. 

Then the General's wife asked questions, and 
Jimmy told her about the Little Mother, and of 
their life together; but not one word did he tell 
of their urgent need, for Jimmy had not learned 
to beg. 

At last the wonderful lunch was over, some- 
what to Jimmy's relief, it must be confessed. 

“ I shall come and see your mother, Jimmy,” 
said the General's wife, as Jimmy left her. 

Out in the hall the General handed the boy a 
nickel. “ Business is business, young man,” he 
said, with a twinkle in his eye. 

That night Jimmy and his mother sat up very 
late, for the boy had so much to tell. 

“Do you think I was wrong to ask for the 


THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 


171 

nickel, Mother ?” he asked anxiously, when he 
had finished. 

“No,” said his mother; “but I am glad you 
did n't ask for more.” 

Then, after Jimmy had gone to bed, the mother 
sat up for a long time, wondering how the rent 
was to be paid. 

On Easter Monday morning Jimmy and the 
Little Mother started out to pick the arbutus and 
the early violets which Jimmy was to sell Tues- 
day at his little stall. 

It was a sunshiny morning. The broad road 
was hard and white after the April showers, the- 
sky was blue, and the air was sweet with the 
breath of bursting buds. And, in spite of cares, 
Jimmy and his mother had a very happy time as 
they filled their baskets. 

At last they sat down to tie up the bunches. 
Carriage after carriage passed them. As the 
last bunch of flowers was laid in Jimmy’s basket, 
a victoria drawn by a pair of grays stopped in 
front of the flower-gatherers. 

“Well, well,” said a hearty voice, and there 
were the General and his wife! They had called 
for Jimmy and his mother, they said, and had been 
directed to the wooded hill. 


72 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


“ Get in, get in,” commanded the General; and, 
in spite of the Little Mother’s hesitancy and timid 
protests, she was helped up beside the General’s 
wife by the footman, while Jimmy hopped in be- 
side the General, and away they went over the 
hard white road. 

The General was in a gay mood. 

“Well, my boy, have you found your golden 
egg?” he asked Jimmy. 

“No, sir,” said Jimmy, gravely; “not yet.” 

“Too bad, too bad,” said the old gentleman, 
while he shifted a white box that was on the seat 
between himself and Jimmy to the other side. 

“You ’re quite sure, are you, that you could 
only get it from a goose? ” he asked later. 

“ Get what, sir ? ” said Jimmy, whose eyes were 
on the gay crowds that thronged the sidewalks. 

“ The egg,” said the General. 

“ Oh— yes, sir,” replied Jimmy, with a smile. 

The General leaned back and laughed and 
laughed until he was red in the face ; but Jimmy 
could see nothing to laugh at, so he merely smiled 
politely, and wondered what the joke was. 

At last they reached Jimmy’s home, and the 
General helped the Little Mother out. As he 
did so he handed her a white box. Jimmy was 


THE GENERAL’S EASTER BOX 173 

busy watching the gray horses, and saw nothing 
else. 

“ For the boy,” whispered the General. 

The Little Mother shook her head doubtfully. 

“ Bless you, madam,” cried the General, testily, 
“ I have a boy of my own— if he is six feet two in 
his stockings.” Then, in a softer tone, “ I beg of 
you to take it, madam; it will please an old man 
and give the boy a start.” 

So when good-by had been said, and Jimmy 
stood looking after the carriage and the prancing 
grays, the Little Mother put the white box in his 
hand. 

Jimmy opened it, and there on a nest of white 
cotton was an egg. But it was different from 
any of the eggs that Jimmy had sold on Saturday. 
It was large and gilded, and around the middle 
was a yellow ribbon. 

Jimmy lifted it out, and found it very heavy. 

“ What do you think it is ? ” he said. 

“ Untie the ribbon,” advised his mother, whose 
quick eyes saw a faint line which showed an open- 
ing. 

Jimmy pulled the yellow ribbon, the upper half 
of the egg opened on a hinge, and there were 

glistening gold coins — five-dollar gold pieces. 

10 


174 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


“ Oh ! ” said Jimmy, and he sat down on the 
step, breathless with surprise and joy. 

A slip of white paper lay between two of the 
coins. Jimmy snatched it out, and this is what 
he read : 

Please accept the contents of the golden egg, with 
the best wishes of The Goose. 


Arbor Day 


No uniform date in the different States 


Arbor Day is a designated day upon which 
the people and especially the school children 
plant trees and shrubs along the highways and 
other suitable places. It was first observed in 
Nebraska. The State board of agriculture of- 
fered prizes for the counties and persons plant- 
ing the largest number of trees, and it is said 
that more than a million trees were planted the 
first year, while within sixteen years over 350,- 
000,000 trees and vines were planted in the 
State. 

This custom, so beautiful and useful, spread 
rapidly, and now is recognized by the statutes 
of many of the States. 

The exact date naturally varies with the cli- 
mate. 


THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE-TREE 


BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 

Come, let us plant the apple-tree, 

Cleave the tough greensward with the spade;' 
Wide let its hollow bed be made ; 

There gently lay the roots, and there 
Sift the dark mold with kindly care, 

And press it o’er them tenderly ; 

As ’round the sleeping infant’s feet 
We softly fold the cradle-sheet, 

So plant we the apple-tree. 

What plant we in this apple-tree? 

Buds, which the breath of summer days 
Shall lengthen into leafy sprays; 

Boughs, where the thrush, with crimson breast, 
Shall hunt and sing, and hide her nest ; 

We plant upon the sunny lea 
A shadow for the noontide hour, 

A shelter from the summer shower, 

When we plant the apple-tree. 

1 77 


178 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


What plant we in this apple-tree? 
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs 
To load the May-wind’s restless wings, 
When, from the orchard-row, he pours 
Its fragrance through our open doors ; 

A world of blossoms for the bee, 
Flowers for the sick girl’s silent room, 
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom, 
We plant with the apple-tree. 


What plant we in this apple-tree? 

Fruits that shall swell in sunny June, 

And redden in the August noon, 

And drop, when gentle airs come by, 

That fan the blue September sky; 

While children come, with cries of glee, 
And seek them where the fragrant grass 
Betrays their bed to those who pass, 

At the foot of the apple-tree. 

And when, above this apple-tree, 

The winter stars are glittering bright, 

And winds go howling through the night, 
Girls whose young eyes o’erflow with mirth 
Shall peel its fruit by cottage-hearth, 

And guests in prouder homes shall see, 
Heaped with the grape of Cintra’s vine, 

And golden orange of the line, 

The fruit of the apple-tree. 


179 


THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE-TREE 

The fruitage of this apple-tree, 

Winds and our flag of stripe and star 
Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, 

Where men shall wonder at the view, 

And ask in what fair groves they grew ; 



And sojourners beyond the sea 
Shall think of childhood’s careless day, 
And long, long hours of summer play, 

In the shade of the apple-tree. 

Each year shall give this apple-tree 
A broader flush of roseate bloom, 

A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, 

And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower, 
The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. 

The years shall come and pass, but we 
Shall hear no longer, where we lie, 

The summer’s songs, the autumn’s sigh, 

In the boughs of the apple-tree. 


i8o 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


And time shall waste this apple-tree. 

Oh, when its aged branches throw 
Thin shadows on the ground below, 

Shall fraud and force and iron will 
Oppress the weak and helpless still? 

What shall the tasks of mercy be, 

Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears 
Of those who live when length of years 
Is wasting this little apple-tree? 

“ Who planted this old apple-tree ? ” 

The children of that distant day 
Thus to some aged man shall say; 

And, gazing on its mossy stem, 

The gray-haired man shall answer them : 

“ A poet of the land was he, 

Born in the rude but good old times ; 

’T is said he made some quaint old rhymes 


On planting the apple-tree.” 




April Fools’ Day 

April 1 


So old is the custom of playing amiable and 
harmless tricks upon the first of April that its 
origin is not definitely known. It is not a holi- 
day and not worthy to be one, but it should be 
good for our sense of humor and that is one of 
the best things we can have. An April fool 
is sometimes called a “ Fourth-month Dunce.” 


FOURTH-MONTH DUNCE 


BY H. M. M. 

T HE curious custom of joking on the first of 
April, sending the ignorant or the unwary 
on fruitless errands, for the sake of making them 
feel foolish and having a laugh at them, prevails 
very widely in .the world. And whether you call 
the victim a “ Fourth-month Dunce,” an “ April 
fool,” an “ April fish” (as in France), or an 
“April gowk” (as in Scotland), the object, to 
deceive him and laugh at him, is everywhere the 
same. 

The custom has been traced back for ages ; all 
through Europe, as far back as the records go. 
The “ Feast of Fools ” is mentioned as celebrated 
by the ancient Romans. In Asia the Hindoos 
have a festival, ending on the 31st of March, 
called the “ Huh festival,” in which they play the 
same sort of first of April pranks— translated into 
Hindoo, — laughing at the victim, and making 
him a “ Huli fool.” ' It goes back to Persia, where 
183 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


184 

it is supposed to have had a beginning, in very 
ancient times, in the celebration of spring, when 
their New Year begins. 

How it came to be what we everywhere find it, 
the wise men cannot agree. The many author- 
ities are so divided, that I see no way but for us to 
accept the custom as we find it, wherever we may 
happen to be, and be careful not to abuse it. 

Some jokes are peculiar to some places. In 
England, where it is called “ All Fools’ Day,” one 
favorite joke is to send the greenhorn to a book- 
seller to buy the “ Life and Adventures of Eve’s 
Grandmother,” or to a cobbler to buy a few cents’ 
worth of “ strap oil,”— strap oil being, in the lan- 
guage of the shoe-making brotherhood, a per- 
sonal application of the leather. 

But this custom, with others, common in 
coarser and rougher times, is fast dying out. 
Even now it is left almost entirely to playful chil- 
dren. This sentiment, quoted from an English 
almanac of a hundred years ago, will, I ’m sure, 
meet the approval of “ grown-ups” of this cen- 
tury: 

“ But ’t is a thing to be disputed, 

Which is the greatest fool reputed, 

The one that innocently went, 

Or he that him designedly sent.” 


Memorial Day 

May 30 


It is said that the observance of this day grew 
originally out of the custom of the widows, 
mothers, and children of the Confederate dead 
in the South strewing the soldiers’ graves with 
flowers, including the unmarked graves of the 
Union soldiers. There was no settled date 
for this in the North until 1868, when Gen- 
eral John A. Logan, as commander-in-chief of 
the Grand Army of the Republic, designated 
May 30. It is now generally observed, and 
is a legal holiday in most of the States. 


THE BOY IN GRAY 

A Ballad for Memorial Day 

BY MARY BRADLEY 

Fredericksburg had had her fray, 
And the armies stood at bay; 

Back of wall, and top of hill, 

Union men and men in gray 
Glowered at each other still. 

In the space between the two 
Many a hapless boy in blue 
Lay face upward to the skies ; 

Many another, just as true, 

Filled the air with frantic cries. 

“ Love of God ! ” with pity stirred, 
Cried a rebel lad who heard. 

“ This is more than I can bear ! 
General, only say the word, 

They shall have some water there.” 

“ What ’s the use? ” his general, 
Frowning, asked. “ A Yankee ball 
187 


i88 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


Drops you dead, or worse, half way, 
Once you go beyond the wall.” 

“ May be ! ” said the boy in gray. 

“ Still I ’ll risk it, if you please.” 

And the senior, ill at ease, 

Nodded, growling under breath, 

“ For his mortal enemies 
I have sent the lad to death.” 

Then a hotter fire began 
As across the field he ran, — 

Yankee shooters marked a prey, — 
But beside each wounded man 
Heedless knelt the boy in gray. 

Parched lips hailed him as he came; 
Throats with fever all aflame, 

While the balls were spinning by, 
Drained the cup he offered them, 
Blessed him with their dying cry. 

Suddenly, through rain of those 
Pattering shots, a shout uprose ; 

Din of voices filled his ears ; 

Firing ceased, and eager foes 
Made the welkin ring with cheers. 

Foes they were, of bitter need, 

Still to every noble deed 


ISUT BESIDE EACH WOUNDED MAN 
HEEDLESS KNELT THE BOY IN GRAY 






THE BOY IN GRAY 


191 


Hearts of men, thank God, must thrill ; 
And we thrill, too, as we read 
Of those cheers on Marye’s Hill. 

Days of battle long since done, 

Days of peace and blessing won, 

Better is it to forget 

Cruel work of sword and gun : 

But some deeds are treasures yet. 

While a grateful nation showers 
Graves of heroes with her flowers, 
Here ’s a wreath for one to-day : 

North or South, we claim him ours — 
Honor to the Boy in Gray ! 







The flag of the United States of 
America. First used January, 1776 


First flag of the United States 
of America. Adopted 1777 


THE EVOLUTION OF OUR FLAG 




/ 


Flag Day 


June 14 


s 


i 


The first recognition of Flag Day by the New 
York schools was in 1889, but it is now gen- 
erally observed by appropriate exercises. June 
14 is the anniversary of the adoption of the 
Stars and Stripes by the Continental Congress 
in the year 1777. This was the flag which, 
first raised over an American vessel by John 
Paul Jones, became the emblem of the new 
republic. In some places another day is set 
apart instead. 


THE STARS AND STRIPES 


BY HENRY RUSSELL WRAY 

W HILE every lad and lassie in the land knows 
and has read all about the famous old Lib- 
erty Bell, too little is known of the origin and 
growth of America’s dearest emblem — her flag. 
William Penn’s city — Philadelphia — is gemmed 
with many historical landmarks, but none should 
be more dear to us than that little old building still 
standing on Arch street, over whose doorway is 
the number — 239. For in a small back room in 
this primitive dwelling, during the uncertain 
struggle for independence by the American col- 
onies, was designed and made the first American 
flag, known as the “ Stars and Stripes,” now 
respected and honored in every quarter of the 
world, and loved and patriotically worshiped at 
home. 

The early history of our great flag is very in- 
teresting. 


195 


96 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


It is a matter of record that during the early 
days of the Revolution the colonists made use of 
flags of various devices. 

It is nowadays generally accepted as a fact that 
the final idea of the Stars and Stripes as a na- 
tional flag was borrowed from or suggested by 
the coat of arms of General George Washington’s 
family. 

The first definite action taken by the colonies 
toward creating a flag, was a resolution passed by 
Congress in 1775, appointing a committee of 
three gentlemen — Benjamin Franklin and Messrs. 
Harrison and Lynch— to consider and devise a 
national flag. The result of the work of this 
committee was the adoption of the “ King’s 
Colors” as a union (or corner square), com- 
bined with thirteen stripes, alternate red and 
white, showing “ that although the colonies united 
for defense against England’s tyranny, they still 
acknowledged her sovereignty.” 

The first public acceptance, recognition, and 
salute of this flag occurred January 2, 1776, at 
Washington’s headquarters, Cambridge, Massa- 
chusetts. The name given to this flag was “ The 
Flag of the Union,” and sometimes it was called 
the “ Cambridge Flag.” The design of this flag 



NUMBER 2 39 ARCH STREET, PHILADELPHIA — THE HOUSE IN WHICH THE FIRST 
“STARS AND STRIPES ” WAS MADE 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


198 

was a combination of the crosses of St. George 
and St. Andrew in a blue field in the upper left- 
hand corner, bordered by thirteen stripes for the 
thirteen colonies. 

But in the spring of 1777 Congress appointed 
another committee “ authorized to design a suit- 
able flag for the nation.” 

This committee seems to have consisted of 
General George Washington and Robert Morris. 
They called upon Mrs. Elizabeth Ross, of Phil- 
adelphia, and from a pencil-drawing by General 
Washington engaged her to make a flag. 

This flag, the first of a number she made, was 
cut out and completed in the back parlor of her 
little Arch street home. 

It was the first legally established emblem, and 
was adopted by Congress June 14, 1 777, under 
the act which provided for stripes alternately red 
and white, with a union of thirteen white stars in 
a field of blue. This act read as follows : “ Re- 
solved, That the flag of the United States be thir- 
teen stripes, alternate red and white: that the 
union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, repre- 
senting a new constellation.” 


Fourth o f July 


This is the greatest secular holiday of our 
country, its observance being sanctioned by the 
laws of every State. The birthday of our lib- 
erty would be a hard one to fix, but by common 
consent the anniversary of the signing of the 
Declaration of Independence is the one ob- 
served. The use of powder to celebrate the 
day is gradually going out on account of the 
large number of lives annually lost through 
accidents. It is known officially as Indepen- 
dence Day. 


A STORY OF THE FLAG 


BY VICTOR MAPES 

HEN the Fourth of July came, we had been 



VV abroad nearly two months, and during 
that time I think we had not seen a single Amer- 
ican flag. On the morning of the Fourth, how- 
ever, we walked out on the Paris boulevards, and 
a number of flags were hanging out from the dif- 
ferent American shops, which are quite frequent 
there. They looked strange to us; and the idea 
occurred to Frank, for the first time, that the 
United States was one of a great many nations 
living next to one another in this world— that it 
was his own nation, a kind of big family he be- 
longed to. The Fourth of July was a sort of big, 
family birthday, and the flags were out so as to 
tell the Frenchmen and everybody else not to for- 
get the fact. 

A feeling of this nature came over Frank that 
morning, and he called out, “ There ’s another ! ” 


201 


202 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


every time a new flag came in view. He stopped 
two or three times to count the number of them in 
sight, and showed in various ways that he, Amer- 
ica, and the American flag had come to a new 
understanding with one another. 

During the morning, Frank’s cousin George, 
a boy two or three years older than Frank, who 
had been in Paris the preceding winter, came to 
our hotel ; and, as I had some matters to attend to 
in the afternoon, they went off together to see 
sights and to have a good time. 

When Frank returned about dinner-time, and 
came up to the room where I was writing letters, 
I noticed a small American-flag pin stuck in the 
lapel of his coat. 

“ George had two,” he said in answer to my 
question ; “ and he gave me this one. He ’s been 
in Paris a year now, and he says we ought to 
wear them or maybe people won’t know we ’re 
Americans. But say, Uncle Jack, where do you 
think I got that ? ” He opened a paper bundle he 
had under his arm and unrolled a weather-beaten 
American flag. 

“ Where?” asked I, naturally supposing it 
came from George’s house. 

“We took it off of Lafayette’s tomb.” 


A STORY OF THE FLAG 203 

I opened my eyes in astonishment; while he 
went on : 

“ George says the American Consul, or the 
American Consul-General, or somebody, put it on 
the tomb last Fourth of July, for our govern- 
ment, because Lafayette, don’t you know, helped 
us in the Revolution.” 

“ They ought to put a new flag on every year, 
George says,” explained Frank, seeing my amaze- 
ment, “on Fourth of July morning. But the 
American Consul, or whoever he is that ’s here 
now, is a new man, George thinks; anyhow, he 
forgot to do it. So we bought a new flag and we 
did it. 

“ There were a lot of people at the tomb when 
we went there, and we guessed they were all wait- 
ing to see the new flag put on. We waited, too, 
but no soldiers or anybody came; and after a 
while the people all went away. Then George 
said: 

“ ‘ Somebody ought to put on a new flag- 
let ’s do it ! 9 

“ We went to a store on the Boulevard, and for 
twenty francs bought a new flag just like this old 
one. George and I each paid half. There were 
two women and a little girl at the tomb when we 


204 


OUR HOLIDAYS 


got back, and we waited till they went away. 
Then we unrolled the new flag and took the old 
one off the tomb. 

a We thought we ought to say something when 
we put the new flag on, but we did n’t know what 
to say. George said they always made a regular 
speech thanking Lafayette for helping us in the 
Revolution, but we thought it did n’t matter much. 
So we just took off our hats when we spread out 
the new flag on the grave, and then we rolled up 
the old flag and came away. 

“ We drew lots for it afterward, and I ’m going 
to take it back home with me. 

“ Somebody ought to have done it, and as 
we were both American boys, it was all right, 
was n’t it?” 

Right or wrong, the flag that travelers see on 
Lafayette’s tomb this year, as a mark of the 
American nation’s sentiment toward the great 
Frenchman, is the one put there by two small, 
self-appointed representatives. And the flag put 
there the year before, with fitting ceremony by the 
authorized official, Frank preserves carefully 
hung up on the wall of his little room in America. 



















) Cl ✓ * O 

N.^ s * * , % * 0 H O' 

0- S s 1 ', C> \> o < * 0 , 


V X O ✓ N »^“ * Qi- 

8 1'" 4 0 4 ** r * » H 0 ’ 

CV S S ^ /y C> V* 



u> ^ y^'v V 
is- va- P* 

- -* v 

. y 0 , X * 



,0* C 

* 

<» ^ 


•>* V 
^ 0 X 


o«°* '**" ,* 

y yjl j'O 


<%y 


V )' -* 

\ 


rp 

., % '»• 


s. 

^ Jffit ' r 

/ v -P 

0° v * c 
. S < 



= M 


"OO' .. « 

A T** »■ &» 

>* # J> 




■*■ .^' ^ '■' '*V %'<sT 

/f ' ’ * .c/' c 0 N c * ^ /y **'\^\."*« ^ O /0< 

0 * ^SNrv . <" 'P 1 '3 

•*6 o' « - ' *'- ^ 




o 




vS" O Q • 

\>* o *«/ 


* I I ' " A s, ■> « / A 

A * ' - ♦- '• 


,S ’ ,,, 

i* ‘ L ' ’ s 
^ > B iK* 


.. ^ ,A 

'/ <* v • -A;/ h c ^ ^ 

« SNx\V r y / . z: 






S " , A , 

* ■#** ' 

»° I 4^ << ^V 
. ^ 

- '(««'' \ ' , , '/ ' “ * 1 A 0 u ,. -V. '■ < »« s A \ „ \. i < , 

0 '■’,%. ** ^ =o cP‘ * c ^ ' V oA ♦' — •* 

^ - %• ^ w i 0*k ^ V- 

J -f , r 

r, • c . ->W.' *>* •% (fl < 3 , '*»*' ,* 

.' ! ,' , 0 - °o .. •<*>. *■..•>* .A v.., °-fe *•«» 

.**?*.& V *■ 

A * 

•■ ' \ * 

Z 



> ^ v <s 



f 

-4 vv^ , ^ o 

O y 4>vy5- J « o- c>* L ^ s r\ J 

/**•.,% A V , 

^ ^ T *o ,c, <V * 

■ < V> A N ' * .f f > : ’ / 4 o ''fv A - 

•'• <*, - y.-m/A -'■ -f 

' « » 

s' A 






• 0 k c 
i . «• 


<y "' ..'' A' .1 
/> V 6 v 


° a A ^ L 

AT : ^ ^ ^ '• 


^ 'y 

1 * % o r 0 * t 0 N 

■P ,. 

>>* v 

^ * i - ; ^pk 


'cK % AA 

//■- ’ 

hi 

•A ° 

s 




'Kc 

: = 




s • 

* o * 0 M 0 ^ \ 

A ’ N < 0 #-/^%*, ^ "T 0 


> \ v Vf. 

* / ^ ^ " 

A 

^T^s' -\ 

' 0 <r s ,\ 

^ V* 


•/» 

Q ✓ 

* "' o'' s'” %, N 




O, ^ * x ^ 

' 1 ■ *, 'c. , 0 ^- C • N 

-/ O o «• -v 

♦ , S ^ 

C ^ ^ 

5 ^, /' t 

IT 


z : 7 

o ° s,;^,,. - <;. 

* ^ ^ " <^! A a>’ 

' ' s' ^ y 0 * ** t 0 N c ^ 

yft<tS A N A 18 -? O. , 0 ‘ * c ^ ^ 



x 0 o. 







